PreDest 1: A Handful of Stones
by Twin-Swords
Summary: PreDestined Story 1. ChrisWyattcentric. Changed future, roughly fourteen years or so after the Finale. The boys are in High School. The Homecoming football game ends up with a trip to the hospital and more than the Halliwells bargained for. COMPLETE!
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Charmed, or any of its characters… I just wish I did.

**Author's Note**: Since some of ya'll enjoyed my one-shot "For the Birds" so much, I decided to expand upon it and turn it into a full blown story… combining it with another idea of mine. If you've read my one-shot, you'll see it appear again in this story, but not in this chapter. So, since my muse has once again pounded me in the back of the head, you, my faithful readers get to receive another story to entertain you!

Things you probably need to know: Wyatt is seventeen and a Senior, Chris is fifteen (nearly 16) and a Sophomore. Phoebe and Coop's eldest daughter is Melinda at 13, they have two other daughters. Paige and Henry's oldest child 'Henry Jr.' was adopted, they also have twin girls - so Wyatt and Chris are the only 'Halliwell boys' so to speak. Piper and Leo did not have any other children beyond Wyatt and Chris.

Don't worry, I'm still working on my Destined: The Charmed Sons series, "The Crucible" is still being written on… I've just hit a tiny bump. It'll work itself out. With that note, please R&R!

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"I don't understand this game," Phoebe Halliwell said out loud. Her husband Coop on her left chuckled in a 'don't look at me' manner. He wasn't going to be explaining the finer points of football to her. On Phoebe's other side was Henry, Paige's husband. In fact her family was taking up the majority of an entire row on the bleachers in the High School football stadium. Only the youngest of the Halliwell clan (that being the youngest two children belonging to her and Coop and all three of Paige and Henry's own children) were with their usual babysitter. Phoebe's eldest daughter Melinda sat on the other side of Coop, more interested in flirting with the cute, but decidedly older High School boy behind her. Phoebe felt more than a little hypocritical at wanting to prevent her thirteen-year-old offspring from hitting on an older man, so she elbowed Coop to do it. Leave it to the Cupid to deal with. Brilliant plan, really. "Would someone care to explain what just happened?"

Going down the line of the bleachers, Paige sat next to her husband and on her other side was Piper. The eldest of the three sisters had the most Homecoming spirit. It just _screamed_ my children are on the field playing! Her husband, Leo, sitting next to her was no better. The Soccer Mom-slash-PTA Dad duo, were both conspicuously dressed in vibrant red, white and black, the school colors. For all of Phoebe's lack of understanding of the rules, this was an incredibly fun family outing. Phoebe and Piper had both gone to this school in their younger years and now; Phoebe's two favorite nephews were both attending AND were rather impressive football stars. Or, at least so Phoebe had heard. It was nearly impossible to tell which player was which to her, and she didn't understand the rules. Clearly stated by her aforementioned phrase.

The only player down on that field that she was confident at recognizing was the younger of Piper's two offspring: Chris. The fifteen year old was decidedly smaller than the other players. But then, he was also two years younger than most of them. Phoebe had to smile proudly at that. Still, compared to some of the hulking giants on the other team that looked like they wanted to eat her nephew for lunch, Chris was easy to pick out. Wyatt? Not so easy. She knew as well as her sisters did that Chris would hit his growth spurt eventually. He'd at least make it to six-foot-one, instead of the five-foot-seven he was now. They also knew, that he would always be more slender and smaller framed thanks to the visit of his future self sixteen years prior. He was growing up right before their eyes into that neurotic young man, only with a much happier past - and a mother that hadn't died when he'd turned fourteen.

"That was first and ten," Henry spoke up, jarring Phoebe from her thoughts. She had almost forgotten that she had asked for help at understanding the game. Henry was laughing a bit, with a twinkle in his eyes as he tried to start explaining it to Phoebe in terms the advice-columnist _might_ understand. "…what that means is that…"

"Oh, Henry, don't waste your breath trying to explain it to her, there's no use," Piper said with a laugh, "It's a good thing that you've had only girls Phoebe, you'd never have survived Sports 101. Henry, we've tried to explain it to her before, she asks _every_ game. All she needs to know is that when we have the ball, her nephews are down there on the field playing. Chris throws it to his teammates, and sometimes Wyatt is the one that catches it and runs it towards those little upright 'H' things that are called _goal posts_, and some times other members of the team catch it and do the same thing. We score, the boys go off the field to wait 'til the next time we have the ball." The eldest Halliwell sister said all of this with a beaming smile and in a patient voice that was directed at Phoebe as if directed at a child being taught her 'ABC's.

Phoebe stuck her tongue out at the older woman in a completely childish gesture, finding that she just couldn't help herself where Piper was concerned. It was Piper's two children out there playing. Phoebe's nephews, Chris and Wyatt, were both starting players on their high school football team. Ignoring Piper's advice, much to Phoebe's triumph and Paige's amusement, Henry continued to try to elaborate on Piper's watered down explanation. Most of it went right over Phoebe's head, but she did try to listen and soak up some of the information Paige's husband was trying to pass on to her. Henry gave a bit more explanation of quarterbacks and wide receivers since those were the positions Chris and Wyatt played. He also pointed out the reason why the other team was trying so hard to turn Phoebe's young nephew into a smear on the field.

Chris was the only sophomore on the Varsity team, and as was previously pointed out - obviously younger and smaller than the juniors and seniors that made up the rest of it. That, by no means, discounted him as a player. In fact, the very reason that Christopher Perry Halliwell was on the Varsity team at all was because he was a very _good_ player. Nearly every pass he threw was golden and hit its mark with surprising accuracy. He didn't have to be as big or strong as the other players, he just had to find his target and throw. Well, and hope that the rest of his team would block properly for him so that he could do that. Henry explained that since Chris had made _every_ pass hit its mark so far this game it had to be making the other team _really_ want to take the young quarterback out of the game.

Phoebe nodded, having only understood half of what Henry had explained about the penalties, plays, possessions, downs, scoring, etc. She had gotten some useful information out of the lecture. In the mean time, they had scored again, the other team had had their shot, had scored, and once more their team was back in possession of the ball. "So, that's a good thing," Phoebe stated more than asked.

Henry laughed, "Yeah, Phoebe, it's a good thing. If you get confused, just check the scoreboard, we're winning."

"We're winning largely in part to _my_ nephews!" Paige chirped brightly.

"Hey, lady, those are _our _sons," Piper said with a possessively prideful note and a beaming smile to her husband. Speaking of her sons, Piper let out a regular sports-mom cheer as she watched her baby boy throw yet another flawless pass, resulting in yet another touchdown… originating from the other team's thirty yard line.

Phoebe had to laugh, but she couldn't resist giving her own jubilant yell. The excitement was contagious, especially for an Empath. Phoebe watched as the offensive players trotted back to the sidelines to let the defense take over. Number 18, which was Wyatt Phoebe knew after being reminded, was walking off with Chris. She watched the particularly manly brotherly exchange of clanking their helmets together before she saw both grabbing their water bottles. Wyatt had glanced towards the stands and Phoebe waved, even though she doubted he could make her out in the crowd. With Wyatt and his Twice-Blessed powers though, one never could tell. Even if he didn't notice, it was the thought that counted.

"I am going to get some snacks," Paige suddenly declared, standing.

"It's almost Halftime," Piper said, looking up.

"All the more reason to go to the concession stand now," Paige replied, "beat the Halftime rush, who's with me?"

"Me!" Phoebe's daughter said, bounding to her feet and climbing over everyone to cheerfully join her aunt. Phoebe stood up too, disentangling her hands from her husband's. She wasn't about to let her thirteen-year-old daughter go running around with all of these much older high school boys outside of her range of vision. That she would be with Paige was hardly a comfort. Getting married and having children had mellowed Phoebe out a _lot_, but it hadn't made her forget what she had been like at that age!

"I'm with you," Phoebe said. "We'll come back with snacks for everyone so you don't have to leave your seat." Phoebe winked at Piper, knowing her elder sister wasn't about to leave her watch over her sons. Phoebe looked one last time towards the field, grinning, she couldn't have been any prouder if they were her own children, even not understanding the game at all.

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"They should auction your arm on eBay, Halliwell," Jason Kidd said blandly to Chris from the bench. Jason was the second string quarterback. He was a senior, Wyatt's age, and not too happy about having lost his starting position to a sophomore five inches shorter than him and half his size. The only thing that salvaged their tenuous relationship was the fact that Chris was winning them games and it meant Jason stood a chance to see Regionals and potentially a State Championship in his last year of High School.

"Nice arm Chris," Kyle Shoemaker said, rolling his eyes at Jason's insincere comment, "Really. Keep this up and we're gonna kill 'em."

Chris just shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly, and refrained from comment. He accepted both the snide remark and the genuine compliment with the same casual demeanor as always. He was just playing the game, enjoying himself and a little slice of being a "normal" teenager. Normal was not a word that was regularly used to describe Chris Halliwell, even by his peers. "Nerd" more frequently replaced "normal" in those circumstances. Not that he cared a whit… or at least, not that he allowed anyone _else_ to see that he cared a whit about what they thought. It was a paradox.

The whole "being popular" thing came so easy for his golden-boy big brother, but Chris found himself either struggling to live up to the name Wyatt had already created, or being stupendously ignored as the annoying little brother. …unless he was helping them win a football game. That only upped the ante in small increments. Where he had gotten the reputation of "goody-two-shoes" among his peers Chris had no idea. He was the risk-taker of the two brothers and the one who didn't always do things by the book. Wyatt was the more-straight laced, and if Chris was being brutally honest with himself, _boring_ brother, yet as if by some strange mythical force Wyatt faced none of the social stigmas for being smart that Chris endured.

Actually, it wasn't so mythical. Chris knew better than anyone that magic had nothing to do with any of it. Wyatt just didn't make straight A's. Chris knew his brother could. He just didn't try or didn't care. If the cost of being popular meant lowering his GPA and not getting into the schools that he was already looking to go to, to hell with popularity. Chris was leaving California when he graduated. He just hadn't figured out how he was going to pull that one off with his parents. He'd come up with a plan eventually; Chris Halliwell _always_ came up with a plan.

With Wyatt around, at least the hostility towards him would be kept to a minimum and some of the players that resented Chris being moved up to varsity would just stick to sarcastic comments. Chris could handle sarcasm. He was the king of sarcasm. If his Aunt Paige hadn't already laid claim to the title of Sarcasm's Creator, he would take that too. It still annoyed him though that his high school existence, for whatever reason, required his big brother's protection to be even slightly socially accepted. It was as much a nuisance as Wyatt thinking that Chris needed his constant protection in the magical world because he didn't have as many powers. That was a thing that couldn't have been farther from the truth.

Chris Halliwell was five-foot-seven, about one hundred fifty pounds soaking wet, while big brother Wyatt was six-foot-two with broad shoulders and a strong solid build. Where Chris was a touch shy, hiding behind sarcasm, and reserved, Wyatt was Mr. Popular, Student Body President, blah blah blah… With an older brother like Wyatt it would be impossible for anyone not to develop an inferiority complex.

There were some things, however, that Chris simply excelled at and Wyatt just didn't. It made an interesting dynamic to their relationship. Wyatt was a damn powerful witch, probably the most powerful in the history of magic - second only to the Power of Three - but he didn't have the same ingenuity that Chris did. Chris had more ways of using his telekinesis than Wyatt had powers (well, maybe). Chris was the expert spell caster, able to think on his feet and come up with spells (that worked!) off the top of his head. Chris was also excellent at making potions.

Every potion he had seen Wyatt make thus far had simply blown up in his big brother's face, a fact that Chris teased Wyatt relentlessly about. It was a little brother's duty to cut the big brother down a few notches. After all, Wyatt did the same with his constant nagging. They looked out for each other, Chris just wished Wyatt weren't quite so smothering all the time. It was an excellent reason to move away to college to prove that he _could_ work independently.

Another of the offensive players came up and slapped Chris on the back, which sent the smaller boy staggering forward a step. Chris's green eyes lifted to look up at the bald black boy, built like a small house. The left offensive tackle flashed Chris a grin. He was holding his helmet in his other hand. Alfred "Fred" Lamont was a junior and one of the few real friends Chris felt that he had on the football team anymore, aside from Wyatt, of course. "Ignore them. They're just jealous, particularly Scruffy warming the bench there," Fred quipped.

Chris grinned; shrugging his shoulders again, "I could explain to them how it works. It's all physics really."

"That's my little brother, the science geek," Wyatt said as he came over to stand with them, "We want to keep them awake for the rest of the game Chris, so we continue to win." Eyes on the game, Wyatt frowned. It was a close game, brutally close, in fact. The other team was already approaching their goal again. Wyatt nodded his head absently towards Jason and Jake, two of his friends on the team that were standing nearby awaiting their call to the field again, "If you're not careful Mr. Wizard will outline exactly what obsessive calculations go through his head every time he throws a pass."

"You can put a football uniform on you and call you a quarterback," Jake Garner said with a grin at Chris, "but you're still a neurotic little nerd. Too smart for your own good."

"Whatever, just be glad they decided to move him up to varsity a year early," Jason remarked, "We actually stand a chance at making it to Regionals. It would be the first time in ten years. If calculating the air-speed velocity of a laden swallow makes C-squared happy and keeps him landing every pass, I say let him be as nerdy as he wants."

Wyatt grinned and Chris was forced to endure another helmet tapping from his big brother. Chris's green eyes rolled upwards at the ridiculousness of the ritual, but he couldn't help smiling too. They were as flawless a team off the field as they were on it. Nobody messed with one Halliwell without answering to the other. Not that anyone in his or her right mind would mess with Wyatt. Wyatt looked out for Chris and vice versa and both of them looked out for innocents… but tonight? Tonight was about being teenage football players trying to win another game. "It is about air-speed velocity though and the proper angle and rotation…" Chris started.

Wyatt interrupted him, saving him from descending further down the rungs of the social ladder. "Well, that was enlightening, anyone ever tell you that you're too smart for your own good little brother?"

"Every day, Wy," Chris said, "You tell me that every day. Not jealous are you? If you need to borrow some brain cells some time, just let me know. I'll give you a family discount." Fred laughed, as did the others near enough to hear.

Those without their helmets on shoved them quickly into place and they all started jogging out to the field when the coach barked 'Offence!' Chris was just a bit behind them, moving over to the coach to get the plays that he would relay to the team in the huddle. The huddle broke and the team made their way to their positions.

Wyatt was walking backwards so that he could flash his little brother a thumbs up, to which Chris responded with a gesture that was not only rude, but would have had their mother putting him over her knee. Never mind that he was nearly sixteen and considered himself too old for that sort of punishment. The play was called and Chris waited, anticipating the snap. He'd look for Wyatt or Carter to be open first, then to Jake. That was the intent. Whoever was the most open would find the ball being calculatedly thrown to them.

The leather touched Chris's palms, breaking the frozen field into hostile motion. Chris jogged back, searching alertly for an opening. From behind the bars of his helmet Chris's sage eyes picked out his older brother wide open and moving. It was second nature, more or less, to him now to calculate the distance. Chris rotated for the pass, leaving that critical blind spot that would leave him open to a sack if Fred hadn't blocked like he was supposed to. Chris tapped the ball once with his left hand, and then pulled his right arm back to send the football spiraling from the tips of his fingers.

Chris grinned as the ball twisted through the air, and it sailed right into Wyatt's waiting arms. That was all Chris needed to see. Wyatt was running for the goal full tilt and no one was going to stop the elder Halliwell. Chris gave out a mental 'whoop' as he saw Wyatt pass across the goal line and he relaxed. The play was over. They had scored again and would go into the second half winning. The Halftime buzzer rang…

…and Chris felt something slam into him from behind like a freight train. It knocked the wind painfully from his lungs, took his feet clean out from under him. He heard and felt a nasty snap that his startled brain couldn't quite register from where as he struck the ground hard. Maybe it had been more than one snap, all he knew was that pain was searing through him before his head slammed into the ground hard. The blood was rushing in his ears like a roar as he got one good view of the night sky behind the stadium lights. Idly Chris wondered what had happened to his helmet before numbing blackness swallowed him.

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**Author's Note:** The comment Wyatt makes about "Mr. Wizard" is referencing Mr. Wizard's World, an American TV show that played on the network Nickelodeon from the early 1980's 'til 1990, when they began airing reruns until 2000. It was the longest running show on Nickelodeon. I kind of miss it, but then, I was a bit of a science geek myself.

"…the air-speed velocity of a laden swallow," is a partial quote from the movie Monty Python: and the Quest for the Holy Grail.

And to shamelessly ask again, since we're at the bottom of this chapter: Please Read and Review! You'll make my day, seriously. Thanks Zeria for the correction between 'running backs' and 'wide receivers'.

Oh, yeah, and sorry about the terribly cruel cliffhanger. I just can't help myself! I'll try not to leave you hanging too long. But you know, if you hit that little button down there and write me a nice review… I may make it sooner rather than later!


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Charmed, or any of its characters… I just wish I did.

**Author's Note**: I hope I didn't leave ya'll hanging too long. I was really intending on leaving it for a few days rather than a few hours, but the inspiration to continue hit me! I'm working away at my Final Exams for the semester and eagerly looking forward to Christmas Break. A part of me is kind of sad that this is the _last_ Christmas Break that I'm going to have from school, but the other part? That part is like: _YES! No more college!!_ We're going to be heading off to go snowboarding after I get finished with Exams, so when that happens I probably won't update for a while, just a warning in advance.

Thank you to those of you who have already read and reviewed Chapter One, you made my day! All of you that review my stories make me feel warm and bubbly inside. It's really uplifting, especially after a hard day's work in the studio.

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Wyatt didn't waste any time as the ball thrown by his little brother connected with his hands. He took off at full speed for the touchdown with blue eyes focused on their goal. No one was near him; it had been a perfectly executed play. Wyatt turned around to look back towards his team as his feet crossed into the goal, scoring. The blonde-haired teen celebrated the touchdown that had ended the play for all of two seconds before he saw the linebacker for the other team still moving towards his brother. Wyatt lost his smile. The Halftime buzzer sounded. Chris had relaxed, thinking the play was over. Wyatt couldn't even warn him.

It happened like it was in slow motion. The linebacker from the other team slammed solidly into Wyatt's little brother, like an eighteen-wheeler hitting a Volkswagen Bug. Wyatt's chest felt tight, but he was rooted to the spot, too far away and unable to do anything but watch. The referees were blowing their whistles and flags were flying, but Wyatt didn't hear them. That snapping sound that he'd heard when the two-hundred-fifty-plus pound guy slammed into his little brother could have only been bones breaking. Chris's helmet went flying off, arcing through the air.

Wyatt watched the helmet bounce. His throat constricted when he watched Chris jerk, heard the painful resounding snaps and what was to Wyatt's ears the deafening thud of Chris hitting the ground with the linebacker on top of him. _Chris!_ It was all Wyatt could do to keep his own legs from crumpling under him as he felt blackness overwhelm the empathetic link between the siblings. By sheer willpower, Wyatt commanded his legs to continue supporting his weight.

The blonde witch broke through his horrified trance and took off across the field, back towards his brother, at a faster pace than he'd run to score. His legs staggered under him only once in his path to get back to Chris. Wyatt threw off his helmet as he raced towards his fallen brother, fighting down fear, anger and desperation. He had to keep his emotions under control. Stuff tended to blow up when his emotions got out of control, but all he could feel was that growing dread in the pit of his stomach over the fact that his brother wasn't moving to get back up.

Wyatt shoved past the other stunned players. As the guy that had blindsided Chris was getting up, smugly - completely unscathed - Wyatt launched himself at him with an angry yell. He didn't even care that he didn't have his helmet on anymore; his shoulder plowed into the linebacker and sent the other guy flailing to land on his back with Wyatt on top of him. He'd knocked the guy as far away from his little brother as he could get him. More whistles blew and more flags went into the air, but Wyatt didn't care.

The seventeen-year-old grabbed the facemask of the other player's helmet and jerked his head forward, just to slam it back against the ground. "Why don't you pick on someone your own size asshole?" Wyatt growled, lifting the guy's head and doing it again, purposefully he was digging his knee into the guy's abdomen. "What the hell did you think you were doing? Couldn't get to him while the play was still going so you had to hit him _after_, you (censored) coward! The play was over you son of a--" someone's hands were roughly grabbing Wyatt and dragging him off of the linebacker. It was Jake and Fred, and they both had a hold of Wyatt to keep him from doing further damage.

One of the linebacker's teammates was pulling him up and back, placing themselves between the angry brother and him. Wyatt was breathing hard now, but he stopped struggling against Jake and Fred. He jerked his arms away from them and turned instead towards Chris. He'd deal with the cowardly asshole again later; he needed to see if Chris was okay first. Angry as Wyatt was, his little brother's well being was the priority.

He'd beaten the coaches to his brother's side; they were jogging across the field towards him. "Chris," he breathed, dropping immediately next to his brother. The elder Halliwell's eyes were frosty when he lifted them to look at the linebacker that had struck Chris after the end of the play. One of the referees was talking to him now, the others flagging the ambulance parked at the end of the field for emergencies. Seeing the slightly smug smile still remaining on the linebacker's face, Wyatt ground his teeth together and bit down the urge to slam him again. Getting kicked out of the game would be worth it. Instead he focused on Chris and color drained from Wyatt's face.

Chris's right arm was twisted awkwardly under his body, his left leg bent at a painful looking angle, while his neck was tilted so that his dark-haired head was resting against the grass. Chris's eyes were shut, his face deathly pale, and with all the football pads Wyatt couldn't tell if he was breathing or not. Frantic, Wyatt put his hand to Chris's neck to feel for a pulse.

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Piper leapt immediately to her feet, "Oh my God." He wasn't getting up. _Why wasn't Chris getting up?_ Even in the stands the _crack_ of the contact had been heard. No one could have missed it after the other action had stopped. The play had been over! The sound of it hung in Piper's ears.

She had seen her son, _both_ of her sons, hit many times before. Even though every time it happened she still winced nervously, they had always bounced right back up after shaking it off. Being tackled was as much a part of football as having energy balls thrown at your head was a part of being a Halliwell. Chris had always resiliently bounced back from getting hit before. He had never been blindsided quite like he had been just then, though. Not after a play was over. He just wasn't getting back up this time. "Leo," Piper said urgently, unsure if her voice would actually work, "he's not getting up." _Why isn't he bouncing back up?_

Piper felt her panic rise as she saw her older son stagger from where he'd scored the touchdown, then sprint towards Chris. Then she watched as he knocked the boy that had tackled her youngest onto the ground and proceeded to lay into him. That confirmed the overwhelming maternal instinct she had that something was terribly wrong. Wyatt never lost his cool unless something was wrong with someone in his family, if it was something that happened to Chris? God help whoever had laid a hand on him. Leo was on his feet too, moving hastily down the bleachers with his wife. If Paige and Phoebe hadn't gone off to the concession stand, they would have been right behind their sister, no doubt.

The cheers from the touchdown that had put the team ahead at Halftime, had died the instant Chris had been tackled in post-play. The hushed silence that had taken over was louder than any cheering roar could have been. Piper could see the coaches on the field bent over her youngest son now. One of them had pulled Wyatt back. They had waved the ambulance from the end of the field out there. _Oh God,_ Piper's mind repeated.

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"Son, you have to let the paramedics handle this," the coach said, keeping hold of Wyatt's arm. The rest of the team had trudged back to the sidelines, looking worried and anxious. Wyatt could even see Jason Kidd, who would have liked nothing more than the chance to play, pale-faced at what had happened. He knew the older boy would have never wanted his chance to play to come at the cost of Chris being seriously injured.

"Chris…" Wyatt repeated weakly. He tried again to pull away from the coach as the Paramedics were leaning over his brother, but the man had a vice-like grip on his arm. Anger bubbled up again, turning his blue eyes dark as he looked towards the rival team's sidelines. A muscle in the large, blonde teen's jaw twitched. For someone, who just yesterday had helped return an injured baby sparrow to its nest, Wyatt looked like he would like nothing more than to break a certain rival-team's linebacker in half. If the guy had been a demon and not a mortal, Wyatt would've long since toasted him.

The Paramedics were wrapping a cervical collar around Chris's neck and were carefully turning him over to strap him on a backboard. Wyatt turned his eyes away from giving the stare-of-death to the rival team to watch, the knot in his stomach continuing to grow. He could have healed his little brother, but this was one of those instances that he knew he wouldn't be able to. Not without the exposure of magic. He wasn't even sure if he had tried; that the Elders would have let his healing powers work. Wyatt's throat was tight again, or maybe it was just _still_ tight, but now he felt the prick of tears in his eyes. Something Wyatt hated more than anything was feeling helpless. That was exactly what he felt right now.

Chris had never been seriously injured playing sports before. Bruises, bumps, sprains, maybe, but nothing serious. Nothing that meant that Wyatt's little brother would have to ride in the back of an ambulance and be taken to an emergency room. The worst part was knowing there was nothing he could do. It wasn't that Wyatt had never seen Chris hurt before. He'd seen his little brother on death's doorstep with a Darklighter's arrow sticking out of him more times than he cared to remember. All of those Darklighters had been personally hunted down and vanquished by Wyatt, himself.

Wyatt's little brother had some ridiculously foolish, self-sacrificing hero complex that went hand-in-hand with his type-A personality. Type-A personalities had a tendency to die young. Wyatt had good reasons to worry and be overprotective of his gung-ho-demon-fighter little brother. Chris got into situations he couldn't handle on his own, but _thought_ he could all the time, or was trying to _prove_ he could handle. Wyatt just expected such instances to have involved demons by default, rather than something like _this._

This was different than Chris being injured by a demon. This was something all of Wyatt's powers couldn't fix. This was something so _normal_ that it was more terrifying than all the demon attacks Wyatt had lived through growing up. Wyatt lifted his eyes from where the paramedics were loading his brother onto a stretcher to see his parents running across the field towards them, anxiously. Wyatt broke his coach's hold and raced to his mother, flinging his arms around her. "They're… they're taking him to the Emergency Room… I don't know what to do," the quiet admission was followed by Wyatt looking helplessly towards his stricken father. Once more Wyatt's eyes moved to his little brother and he swallowed hard as Piper pulled herself away from him to rush over to the EMTs and her younger son. Leo rested a hand on Wyatt's arm and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

Wyatt pulled away from his dad and went after his mother to try to get a ride to the hospital with his little brother. Screw the game; he wasn't leaving Chris's side! One of the paramedics was telling his mother that they only had room for one to ride in the ambulance. Wyatt jumped up; giving his mother a desperate and pleading look for her to let it be him. Piper, torn between leaving her baby and not wanting to separate the two brothers, looked to Leo. Leo nodded and Wyatt climbed up into the Ambulance, taking Chris's uninjured hand into his own. "Hey, bro, you're gonna be okay, alright?" Wyatt said quietly. Wyatt looked out towards his parents, unable to keep a brave face even for his mother and father's sakes.

"I love you baby, you hang on okay, Wyatt's going to be right here," Piper said, leaning over Chris's unconscious form. She gently brushed his dark, sweaty hair aside to press a kiss to his forehead. She was obviously trying not to cry, having as much trouble as Wyatt. Reluctantly the boy's mother stepped out of the ambulance and turned to look towards her two sons, "We'll meet you at the hospital," Piper said despairingly to Wyatt, before the ambulance doors closed.

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**Author's Note:** Okay, it probably will be another day or two before the _next_ update. Maybe, who knows. I've got to get my final projects completed with all their finishing touches. I hope you liked it and are enjoying it so far. Let me know! Press that little button at the bottom that says 'Review'!

Stormythomas: I hope Wyatt smacking that guy was to your satisfaction. ;) I enjoyed writing that, and almost wanted him to do more, but those pesky teammates of his pulled him off. I love science geeks too… and Chris is just such an adorable one!

Lady Gallatea Ravenclaw: You'll just have to read on and find out how Chris is going to be, I can't just blurt out everything from the start. That would ruin all the suspense. Thanks for the review.

angelkat2502: Sorry for leaving you like that! It was kinda like the Teaser openings of the show in that respect… and every suspenseful moment that they cut to a commercial.

Amantine: I hope my explanation of sophomores and seniors, etc. made sense. Sorry to torture you with not knowing Chris's condition. Poor guy… he'll bounce back eventually. He always does. It just may take a little longer this time.

pinkphoenix1985: I'm glad you think so!

persephone25: Thank you for the review!

Shraddha: Dank u altijd! (Thank you always!)

Zeria: Thanks for pointing out the running back/wide receiver thing. Fixed it!

…and one last little shameless request. You know the drill, hit the button at the bottom and give me some love! The more reviews I get, the sooner I'll post again!


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Charmed, or any of its characters… I just wish I did.

**Author's Note**: Another chapter written… I hope I didn't keep you all waiting to long. It doesn't look like anyone is ready to skin me yet. I took longer on writing this chapter because I wanted to make sure I got some things right. I tried to remember my own ride in an ambulance, but since I was kind of unconscious for part of it like Chris currently is (not for a football injury though).

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Wyatt was silent, holding Chris's limp left hand in his right and rubbing it with the other. He watched the paramedics secure the doors and felt numb. The male paramedic climbed up front, settling into the driver's seat, while the woman remained in the back with Wyatt and Chris. She grabbed a clipboard, scribbling some notes on it, and then grabbed several things from drawers and cabinets around the ambulance.

"Hey bro, you need to open your eyes okay?" Wyatt said quietly, squeezing his little brother's hand in encouragement for him to do just that. Chris didn't stir and he was so pale. He didn't like seeing Chris laying there, motionless and looking so vulnerable, nor did he like how helpless he felt at not being able to do a single thing for him except sit uselessly at his side. The woman grabbed a nonrebreather mask; turning on the oxygen she then put the mask over Chris's nose and mouth.

Wyatt watched the light misting inside the mask, which was a relieving indication that his little brother was breathing. Shallow breathing was still breathing. The female paramedic came around to Chris's left side where Wyatt was sitting. "I'm going to need to take his blood pressure, sweetheart," she said to Wyatt. Her voice sounded so calm to Wyatt. It was comforting and frustrating all at the same time. Wyatt slid over to give her room to work, and chewed on his lower lip as he watched the woman take Chris's vital signs and note them down. She pulled a penlight out, pried Chris's eyelids open and shined it in both before jotting whatever it was she saw down too.

The ambulance started forward, heading off of the grass of the football field into the parking lot and then out onto the road. As the wheels turned onto the road the siren started up and Wyatt knew the lights must have been flashing too. When Wyatt was little he had always imagined what riding in the back of an ambulance with the lights and sirens going would be like. Last year Wyatt had wrecked their mother's car and he'd had his first ride in the back of an ambulance. It hadn't been as much of a fun experience as his childhood imagination had made it out to be. Now, in his second ride in an ambulance sitting in here with Chris as the patient, it wasn't any better.

"What's your name sweetheart?" the paramedic asked Wyatt. She got up and moved back around to Chris's other side, making more notes on her clipboard.

"Wyatt," the blonde youth managed to get out, though his voice cracked slightly. He kept watching Chris's breath form condensation on the inside of the oxygen mask, kept waiting for some indication that Chris was stirring, and kept feeling so afraid that those misting breaths might stop. He couldn't think like that. Chris was going to be fine. A part of him wished he had his mother's power to freeze. He thought about it more than once, how he would have frozen the paramedics so he could try to heal Chris. Now that the paramedic had gone back to the other side, Wyatt slid back into place and resumed his guarded hold on Chris's hand.

"Wyatt, I'm Cathy… And you're his big brother, huh?" she asked. Wyatt only nodded mutely in response, not quite trusting his voice. Wyatt gave Chris's hand another light squeeze, silently hoping for one in return. The paramedic was talking to him again, "You two must be awfully close. We're going to take good care of him." Again Wyatt's response was non-verbal; he didn't even look up at her. He thought he saw a flicker in Chris's eyelids.

"How old is he?" Cathy asked, trying to get Wyatt to answer some of the necessary questions about the patient's history and at the same time trying to ease some of Wyatt's fears.

"He's fifteen, he'll," Wyatt started and felt his voice waver unsteadily again, "…he'll be sixteen next month." Chris's fingers twitched against Wyatt's hand and Wyatt's breath caught for a moment.

"Does he have any allergies? Is he on any medications?"

"He's allergic to sulfa drugs," Wyatt answered, grateful for knowledge of Chris's medical history, then shook his head to the second question. _Please wake up. _. Chris's fingers twitched again. Wyatt took a deep breath and closed his eyes, sending up a prayer of thanks to whoever was listening. When he opened them again, he looked earnestly towards his little brother's face. Maybe he was finally waking up. "Chris? Hey, there bro, can you hear me? You need to try to open your eyes…"

The paramedic set her clipboard aside and stood up, standing over Chris on the opposite side from Wyatt. She had abandoned her questioning of the older brother, now that the patient seemed to be waking. Chris groaned softly and his eyelids were indeed fluttering. Wyatt felt a huge relief that Chris was waking. Gradually Chris's eyes opened a crack, squeezed shut in a grimace of pain, before opening up cautiously.

"…Wh…Wyatt?" Chris's voice was soft, muffled from the mask over his nose and mouth. Wyatt squeezed Chris's hand again and felt a very weak squeeze back. He stood up so that Chris could see him, since the cervical collar prevented him from turning his head.

"Yeah, bro, I'm right here," Wyatt said with a comforting smile. Chris's eyes were bluer than they were green and filled with pain. As relieved as Wyatt was to see Chris conscious again, he would have given almost anything to spare him whatever pain he was experiencing right now. He looked so confused and disoriented, frightened.

Cathy looked at Chris, "Hey sweetie, I need to ask you some questions. Can you tell me your name?"

"…C…Chris," came the muffled response, "I… it hurts… Wy… I want mom…"

"Mom and Dad gonna meet us at the hospital. I'm right here though, and I'm not going anywhere," Wyatt said. "Do you remember what happened?"

"…we were winning?" Chris asked in a small voice, sounding confused as to why Wyatt wasn't still at the game. "…what are you…s…someone hit me?" he groaned out. It was somewhere between a statement and a question.

The paramedic smiled a patient smile, but there were questions that she needed to ask, especially now that Chris was lucid and able to respond, "How many fingers am I holding up, Chris?"

"…Tw…Three, but they're blurry…" Chris's voice wavered and Wyatt felt the younger teen's fingers twitch against his hand. Chris squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, looking like he was trying to stop his swimming vision and catch his breath. There was pain etched into his delicate features. When Chris opened his eyes again they were watery and he looked more scared than Wyatt had ever seen him. "…hurts to breathe…"

"You've probably got some cracked ribs, just try to take slow, easy breaths," Cathy said gently before asking another question, "Can you tell me what else hurts, Chris?"

Chris looked like he was thinking hard, trying to figure out what it was that was hurting him exactly. "…my right side… arm… everything…" he whimpered, "Leg… I don't… feel…." He closed his eyes and Wyatt had a feeling that Chris was trying to calm himself. Wyatt had his lower lip caught between his teeth, gazing worriedly down at his injured sibling and trying desperately to send reassuring feelings towards him.

"M…my head feels… feels like the marching band is playing in it," Chris offered with a pale excuse for sarcasm, "…and like Wy's buffalo butt is sitting on my chest..." That was a little bit more encouraging to Wyatt than anything else. If Chris was even attempting being sarcastic, he must be somewhat all right. A look of agony ripped across Chris's face and forced him to squeeze his eyes shut and moan quietly. That threw Wyatt's hopes out the window. His panting, panicked breaths were misting faster against the oxygen mask. Chris's hand tightened its grip on Wyatt's further with each hyperventilating breath. He was scared. Wyatt was scared too.

"Calm down, sweetheart, slow easy breaths okay?" the EMT said in calming tones. The woman's urgent form of calm was meant to be soothing. Chris opened his eyes again, fear shining bright in their azure hues. "You have a concussion and a couple of broken bones, but we're taking you to the hospital and they're going to patch you up good as new. Okay?"

"Okay," Chris didn't sound convinced to Wyatt, but he did relax enough that his breathing wasn't quite so ragged. Wyatt tried not to frown, rubbing his brother's hand between his.

"Did you get the number of the bus that hit me?" Chris weakly mumbled at Wyatt with that familiar sarcasm.

"Yeah, bus number eleven, and he ran a red light," Wyatt said, smiling down at Chris, "I had a little moment of road rage and rammed his fender for wrecking my little brother."

"The other guys are gonna be mad if we lose," Chris said, "You should've stayed and finished the game."

"Yeah right," Wyatt responded, "Not a snowball's chance in hell."

"They'll dog you on Monday for leaving the game just because I took a little bump to the head," Chris mumbled, downplaying his injuries. It didn't work very well as another wave of pain crossed his face and left him panting again.

The EMT was on the radio, calling ahead to the hospital and relaying letters and numbers and saying things in the background that Wyatt couldn't make sense of. Wyatt wasn't really paying attention to her though.

"They'll get over it. My baby brother comes before any stupid football game," Wyatt swallowed hard, trying to keep the humor going, "Besides, I figured it was either come with you and get some free peanuts or stay there and get myself kicked out of the game for creaming that guy. How often do you get a chauffeured flight through San Francisco complete with flashing lights and fanfare?"

"I think I'd rather skip the ostentatious ride," Chris slurred quietly, "there are other optional and much more practical means of transportation."

"Are you trying to use words from those SAT prep books on purpose?" Wyatt asked, wryly, "It doesn't make you sound smart, it makes you sound retarded… and badly in need of a life."

"You're just jealous because you suffer from acute limited vocabulary," Chris mumbled, "Maybe you should ask to see someone at the hospital too, they might be able to help you with that." Worry tugged at Wyatt again over the fact that Chris's eyelids were drooping again.

"Chris, keep talkin' to me," Wyatt encouraged.

"…I'm sorry Wy…hurts… and… just… want to sleep…" Chris slurred, "…hurts…tired…"

"Chris, hey, Chris, don't go back to sleep," Wyatt said more urgently, "Keep your eyes open, you gotta stay awake. Why don't you tell me about that equation of yours for a perfect pass?"

Chris's eyes took a slow drowsy descent down, but he opened them again, and slurred something incoherent to his brother. Chris's hand went slack in Wyatt's and Wyatt saw his brother's eyes had rolled back and the lids were closing over them again. "Chris! Open you eyes, do you hear me?" Wyatt demanded, unable to keep the alarm from his voice.

Chris had seemed fine just a minute ago, well not _fine_. He couldn't be _fine_ with a neck brace, strapped to a backboard with at the very least a concussion, broken leg, broken arm and probably bruised ribs if not broken. Wyatt didn't want to begin to think about the worse injuries, the internal ones that might be there. That would cause his brother to slip unconscious again. Chris might not have been exactly fine a minute ago, but at least he had been alert and talking to him, joking…

"Chris, c'mon," Wyatt pleaded, rubbing his brother's hand a bit more vigorously. Wyatt was the one close to hyperventilating now as he tried to rouse his brother to no response. "Christopher! Please don't do this…"

The paramedic dropped the radio and moved over quickly, getting right into motion. Wyatt moved back so he was out of the way, but held onto Chris's hand like that alone would pull Chris back to consciousness again. Cathy shouted up to the front of the ambulance, "Greg, what's our ETA?"

"Five minutes," the man in the front called back.

"Better make it two."

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**Author's Note:** So, there you go. I finished that update. There were more scenes that I wanted to include in this chapter, including one with the Aunts figuring out that something was wrong. Another Piper P.O.V. and arriving at the hospital, but I'll save those for the next update. Thanks for all the reviews on the last chapter. I'm going to try to get to each of you to respond with thanks individually. What do ya'll think? Hit the button down there and let me know. I need some love and so does poor Chris.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Charmed, or any of its characters… I just wish I did.

**Author's Note**: Sorry for the delay. I know I told some of you I would have this up the other day, but I ran into a couple of problems with that. Anyway… here is the next chapter! Thanks to all of my readers, I've put my replies at the bottom in the closing remarks. Just a note from the last chapter: ETA stands for "Estimated Time of Arrival" in case anyone needed a translation. I'm going to be using some medical terms and abbreviations in this chapter too - rather than listing out all the meanings at the bottom… if you all want clarifications, feel free to ask about 'em in your reviews or send me a private message, I'll try to answer quickly. I hope it's not boring. ;) Sorry again for the delay, I hope it was worth your wait.

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"See, aren't you glad that we didn't wait 'til Halftime?" Paige asked Phoebe as they started walking back towards the stands with their purchases, "Look at the line now." The Halftime buzzer would be sounding any second now, and the line for the concession stand had more than doubled since they had first gotten there. There were still people headed for the concession stand and the Homecoming Court (those that weren't on the field playing, like Wyatt) were lining up at the fence for the Halftime ceremony.

"Of course," Phoebe said. Paige could tell that her older sister was only partially paying attention to her. She was paying more attention to her young teenaged daughter and every boy that Melinda so much as flashed a smile at. Mel held up a finger to her mother and aunt to stop to chat with a couple of her friends for a moment and Phoebe and Paige paused several steps ahead of her.

"Okay, _Mom_, ease up on her," Paige said, elbowing Phoebe, "a little harmless flirting isn't going to hurt anything. You're going to give the poor girl a complex if you keep that up. She's fine."

Phoebe wrinkled her nose at Paige, but she did try to ease up on her overprotective mother mode. "In a few years, you'll be going through this with the twins you know."

"Yes, and you've still got two more girls to go through it with too, after Mel," Paige reminded her with a smile, "I think I'm more worried about the little Casanova that Henry Jr. is turning into. I'll be chasing the girls away in droves. Do you know what happened the other night? One of the little girls from his class called to see if he could go to the movies with her. He's _nine_ Phoebe! Nine! If I had brought him with us to the game, he'd have a harem of sixteen year olds wrapped around his little finger."

Paige and Henry had adopted their little heartbreaker of a son when he was just a baby. As it turned out, much to Henry and Paige's amazement, their new little boy's mother had apparently been a witch. He fit right into their family and Paige's concerns about raising a "normal" baby in a magical family were removed. Yet again Paige's knack for having magical reasons for everything in her life had worked out. Even if sometimes she thought poor Henry felt outnumbered by being the only truly "normal" person in the family. True, Leo was mortal now, but the man had been an angel!

"Aww, that's so cute!" Phoebe teased, "Young love…"

"You didn't think it was so cute when we were talking about Mel," Paige was rather satisfied that that remark shut Phoebe up quickly.

"Point taken."

"Thought so."

"Hey, Mel!" Phoebe called, "Come on, sweetie, let's get back to our seats before the half-time show starts, you want to see if your cousin Wyatt gets crowned Homecoming King?"

Melinda rolled her eyes, said some parting remark to her friends that neither Paige nor Phoebe could hear, and then the dark-haired girl trotted over to them. "Of course he's going to be Homecoming King, Mom," Melinda said with a 'duh' expression. Following after them, she continued. Her voice was just dripping with sarcasm, "It's a popularity contest, which will be _no_ contest. He's like _Mr. Popular_, Captain America, Student Body President, Star Athlete…ugh, even _my_ friends at the middle school like him and talk about him constantly. Bethany asked me just now if he had a girlfriend. Like _I_ care if Wyatt has a girlfriend. He's had what? Four already this year? Who could keep up anyway? It's enough to make me want to gag myself. Sometimes I wait for a little sparkle to flash on his teeth when he smiles. How does Chris live with all of that nauseating perfection?"

Paige couldn't help herself she burst out laughing. She cut off abruptly from the look that Phoebe directed at her that said not to encourage her. Paige rolled her eyes, she at least, was proud of the budding sarcasm. If you couldn't make fun of your own family, who could you make fun of?

"Chris is a bad influence on you," Phoebe said to her daughter, "…and so is your Aunt Paige."

There was a loud cheer from the stands as they continued back towards the bleachers and Paige tried to stand on her tiptoes to see above the heads of all the people standing at the fence to see out onto the field. Chris must have made another great pass and someone was making a touchdown. She looked towards the scoreboard and the counting down time clock.

"Touchdown!" the squeaky voice of the teenaged announcer up in the booth shouted, to applause before the buzzer rang signaling the end of the half. _CRACK!_ Paige blinked, still trying to see over the heads of people blocking her view from the field at the sound of an impact out on the field.

"Well, that didn't sound good," Paige remarked. The folks standing along the fence sucked in gasps, 'ooohs' and the cheering in the stands went rather silent. Those that had been on their feet to cheer for the touchdown up there were sinking back into their seats in shock. Paige glanced at Phoebe just in time to thrust her drink and bag of popcorn at Melinda before catching the Empath on her way down. "Phoebe?"

"Mom?" Melinda asked, sounding worried.

"…not so subtle reminder of the effects of crowds," Paige's older sister said with a hand on her forehead. Phoebe steadied herself and gave Paige a weak smile, "I'm fine, and it's under control again. What the hell just happened?"

One of the men standing at the fence turned to look at them, "Quarterback just got sacked. It was pretty ugly. Don't think he's getting up from that one. I hope they throw that kid from the other team out of the game; unnecessary roughness and the play was o… ouch…" something on the field had his attention again. Whatever it was had the teenagers at the fence murmuring back and fourth to each other and crowding to try to see.

_The quarterback?_ Paige thought with a massive flash of worry. If that 'crack' they'd heard had been the sound of someone hitting Chris… She let go of her sister's arm quickly, leaving Melinda in charge of Phoebe. The man at the fence had said that he didn't think Chris was going to be getting up from that hit. From the sound of it, Paige was instantly fretting over the same thing. As much as she would love to think her neurotic little nephew was indestructible, he was half the size of most of the other boys out on that field and she knew for a fact that Chris wasn't indestructible.

There were 'oohs' and continuous murmurs of conversation rippling through the crowd now, but in a hushed manner that contrasted grandly to the crowd's earlier excitement. Paige moved over to the fence and elbowed aside a few of the teenagers pressed against it in order to get a look. She heard something about 'Wyatt giving the creep what he deserved' from one of them as she craned her neck towards the field. Chris was laying motionless and… _Oh, no…_ helmet-less on his side. And Wyatt was on top of a boy from the other team whom Paige could only assume had been responsible for tackling Chris. Flags were going everywhere. The refs and coaches were running out.

Paige pushed off from the fence, grabbed both Phoebe and Mel, and moved in a rush, "Come on."

Paige caught Wyatt's name in there a couple of times, and she left Phoebe to elbow aside a couple of them to see for herself. Chris was lying motionless on the field and Wyatt was on top of a boy whom Paige could only assume had tackled Chris. The refs and the coaches were running out.She pushed off from the fence, grabbed both Phoebe and Mel, "Come on."

"Hey!" Melinda yelped when she dropped the drink she was holding. Paige didn't get her a chance to do anything about it. She was trying to get through the stunned crowd. Her mind was reeling, but she needed to get to Piper and Leo and the rest of their family.

More shocked words were coming from people in the crowd as they passed. A lot of the comments were coming from teenagers with red and white face paint, crazy wigs, and outrageous homecoming getups. She figured some of them at least were friends of Chris and Wyatt, but it was hard to recognize anyone that she had seen around the Manor with the boys. Even if she did, she was more concerned about reaching her sister. Apparently the ambulance had pulled onto the field and Piper and Leo had gone out there from what Paige gathered amidst the flying gossip.

Paige's heart was racing and to her growing frustration it was taking them forever to get through the crowd. She heard the ambulance's siren start up and fade off as it drove away. By the time they made it back to where they could climb into the section of the stands they had been sitting in, Henry was on his way down. Paige dreaded what he had to say when her husband reached her and she was right to do so.

"Thank God. I thought I was going to have to fight through all this madness to try to find you guys. They're taking Chris to the hospital, strapped him to a backboard… I don't know how bad it is. Just that it looked pretty bad. Wyatt climbed in the ambulance to ride with him and Piper and Leo already headed out towards the parking lot for their car," Henry said, wrapping an arm around his wife. He didn't need to ask if she and Phoebe wanted to go too. "Coop went to go get the van started and to call Billie to tell her she's probably going to need to stay with the kids later than we told her."

Melinda looked pale, worried, and she was holding her mother's arm. "I guess this means watching the halftime show is out," she said to the adults, barely audible.

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There were people waiting at the emergency entrance into the hospital when the ambulance pulled up and the doors were open. They whisked the stretcher Chris was on out of the ambulance so quickly and were shouting things back and forth in such a blur that Wyatt tried to keep up with. The blonde teen was stricken as he jogged after them, he'd tried to hold onto Chris's hand, but now he just settled for keeping his younger brother within eyesight.

Wyatt wished Chris would open his eyes and start talking again. He looked paler than he had before. One of the E.R. doctors put himself between Wyatt and his line of vision with his brother, and he just wasn't having that. Wyatt sped up, his cleats smacking against the tiled floor as he followed them through the automatic doors and into the medical facility. He couldn't tell if his brother's breaths were still misting the mask over his face or not. Cathy was relaying what had happened in the ambulance to the doctors in terms that Wyatt didn't know, but knew that whatever it was it didn't sound good.

"Fifteen year old male, football injury. TBC. RBS. Hypotensive… BP 90 over 57… possible EDH... POPTA…" the letters and numbers being shouted out by Cathy just continued to cause a deepening sense of dread in Wyatt as he raced after.

"Trauma Two," someone directed.

"What does that mean? Is he going to be okay?" Wyatt asked. No one answered him. They just wheeled Chris into a room and started moving in some crazily choreographed dance. Someone shouted for them to get rid of the uniform and pads so they could see what they were working with. A pair of scissors and the sound of tearing uniform had Wyatt again turning his lower lip into a makeshift meal. Wyatt stood back to give them room, but moved every time someone blocked his view of Chris. His heart was racing in his disquiet, he wished someone would say something that he understood so he could get an idea of what was wrong.

They just kept talking in medical jargon, shouting things and sending people running from the room, or around the room. Everyone was ignoring him like he was invisible. Wyatt felt like he was in a daze. Finally some words that made sense.

"Where are the parents?"

"On the way."

"Deb, we're gonna need to intubate, get me some O-neg, and tell Radiology we're going to be giving them a house call for a CT stat."

"Who's the kid?"

"Big brother."

"What's going on?" Wyatt asked again, voice cracking. He couldn't keep track of who was saying what, they were all talking so rapidly. Intubate, what did that mean? God, it was like they were talking in a foreign language again, it was making him dizzy. Part of that, he knew, had to do with the tube he just watched them shove down Chris's throat that was attached to a ventilator. Wyatt swallowed hard and put a hand on the wall to steady himself.

"Can we lose the Velcro?"

"I've got him," one of the nurses said, splitting away from the team taking care of Chris. She gently took one of Wyatt's muscular arms and started to lead him out of the room, "Come on sweetie, lets go out to the waiting room to see if your parents ar--"

"I'm not leaving him, I told him I wasn't going to leave him," Wyatt said, trying to pull his arm away. For being such a short woman, she was surprisingly strong and she held on.

"You can't stay in here sweetie."

Wyatt ground his teeth together; wishing people would quit calling him 'sweetie'. He shook his head, calling out desperately, "Chris!" The nurse was already dragging him out of the room. The doors swung shut behind them and some shout from inside the room had the nurse running back inside, abandoning Wyatt. Wyatt looked through the windows into the room, paralyzed and unable to breathe.

Until someone else took his arm and started leading him down the hall, Wyatt wouldn't have moved. They didn't say anything, just patted his arm and led him out to a waiting room where his father sat. The nurse slipped back out, as Wyatt broke through his paralysis to rush over to Leo, burying his face in his father's shoulder. Leo pulled him down onto the couch and rubbed the back of Wyatt's head, trying to give him some comfort. "Your mom's filling out paperwork or arguing with the nurses, they wouldn't let us go back."

"…they were shouting all this stuff…" Wyatt mumbled into his father's shoulder, feeling so helplessly lost, "…he… he woke up in the ambulance… seemed okay… and… he's… he's got to be okay Dad… he's…" Wyatt had no idea what he would do if Chris wasn't okay, "…I didn't want to leave him… what if… what if he wakes up again… I told him… I wouldn't… I…."

"Shh…" Leo soothed, holding back his own fears and worries to be strong for his oldest son. "He'll be okay Wyatt… he'll be okay." Wyatt wasn't sure whom his father was trying to convince more, his son or himself.

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Three hours later there were more worried and nervous faces in the waiting room, including that of the patient's worried mother Piper Halliwell. She sat on the edge of her seat, chocolate brown eyes affixed on the door. Every nurse or doctor that walked by risked having Piper pounce upon him or her for some news of her baby. Leo rested a hand on Piper's arm and the shot him a venomous look. If one more person told her to calm down - family member or not, she swore she would blow them up and consequences be damned. Leo wisely kept his mouth shut and lowered his hand to return it to the cup of coffee he was holding that had long since gone cold.

It had been almost eight o'clock when they had gotten here, it was nearly eleven now and they hadn't heard much of anything in those three painfully slow hours, except that they had taken Chris to the Operating Room. Piper drew a slow breath that did nothing for her frayed nerves and surveyed her family. Melinda had her head resting on her father's lap while Coop stroked her hair. She had fallen asleep not long ago. Piper envied the girl for that, she knew she wasn't going to get even a second of rest until she knew that Chris was going to be okay. Paige and Phoebe were sitting together, holding one another's hands and looking at the door with similar amounts of anxiousness to their elder sister. Henry had just stepped out to call the babysitter again.

Wyatt. Piper's eyes lingered on her eldest son and her expression softened. When she had come into the waiting room, he'd been crying on Leo's shoulder. He looked so lost as he paced back and forth across the waiting room. His football jersey and pads had been pulled off and discarded in a seat that he had refused to sit in, leaving him in his white undershirt. There were tracks in the dirt on his cheeks from his tears and Piper could practically see the wheels of blame running in his golden-haired head. That was something he had inherited from her, that self-incrimination should anything happen to a family member. He held himself personally responsible for anything that happened to his younger brother.

She did the same thing. Chris had done the same thing last year when the roles had been reversed and Wyatt had wrecked the car. They hadn't been kept waiting nearly as long… and Wyatt hadn't needed surgery. Surgery… why wasn't anyone telling them anything! Piper was feeling that familiar self-incrimination right now, knowing her baby boy was somewhere in this hospital with a bunch of strangers. She didn't know if he was conscious or not, but he was alone and without a single member of his family there at his side. It made her feel ill. Piper closed her eyes and rubbed her temples. Leo rested his hand on her back and rubbed slow circles there.

"Mrs. Halliwell, Mr. Wyatt?" a male voice asked from the doorway.

Piper's eyes shot open and she leapt to her feet, locking her stare upon the doctor standing in the doorway. Leo rose to his feet too, keeping one hand on Piper in support. The man looked too young to be a doctor, but there was a knowledgeable air about him and a calm that Piper found irritating. She couldn't understand how anyone could be _calm_ about this.

"I'm Doctor Hathaway. Your son is out of surgery and is in Recovery right now," the young man informed them, "We've got him on a ventilator and we're monitoring his vitals. I'm sorry you were kept waiting so long, I'd like to go over everything with you."

"Is he going to be okay?" Wyatt asked before any of the other family members could say anything.

"He should come out of this alright," Dr. Hathaway answered, "but he's not out of the woods yet."

"What's wrong with him?" Piper demanded bluntly, "Why did he have to have surgery?"

"Why don't you have a seat again," the doctor suggested, gesturing them to sit down. He pulled a chair over and sat in front of them. His clipboard rested on his lap. "We'll start with the less serious and work our way up from there. Your son has multiple fractures due to a blunt force impact. His right clavicle and humerus, minor fracture of the left tibia, four cracked ribs on his right side," he was reading off from the clipboard, "He suffered a level three concussion…" the man hesitated for a moment that caused Piper's heart to skip a beat in the uncomfortable silence, "…there was a concern about a skull fracture or a possible neck or spinal cord injury as well but the CT didn't show anything along those lines. Even so, it could have been missed, so we're not ruling it out entirely. The biggest concern, and the reason for the immediate emergency surgery was an epidural hematoma--"

Every word was like a dagger digging deeper into Piper and she was glad that she had taken the suggestion to sit down without argument. _That's it; he's never playing sports again… _Her hand tightened around Leo's and she felt both of her sisters resting their hands on her where they could reach. "Excuse me a what?" Piper asked. Leo looked like he was following everything that was being said, having been a doctor himself, but Piper was neither a doctor nor had she had any medical training. Whatever it meant to Leo, the loss of color from his face had told Piper it wasn't good. "Speak English. Not everyone here has had medical training," the words came out harshly and Piper didn't even care that her tone sounded so hostile.

Dr. Hathaway took a deep breath, "There was a buildup of blood between the brain and the skull because of the trauma. It's a potentially deadly condition because of the possibility of increased pressure in the brain, but we caught it in plenty of time to do something about it… we had to call in a neurosurg--"

Piper stopped hearing the words after that, burying her face in her hands. _My baby, my poor baby._ She couldn't stop the sob that rose up and constricted her throat and when Leo wrapped his arms around her she just leaned against him. The doctor was still talking and explaining what had been done about it. "…when can we see him?"

The doctor sat stupidly for a moment, his mouth hanging open in mid sentence at the quietly asked question from the mother. He closed his mouth and composed himself, "Once a bed is ready in the ICU, he'll be admitted and moved up there to be kept for observation. Visiting hours are over, but I'm sure an exception can be made for you to be able to see him for a few moments, but only for two of you. I'll have a nurse come in shortly and show you all to the ICU waiting room upstairs."

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**Author's Note:** I tried to leave this one at less of a cliffhanger than the last. It's a difficult habit to break! At least you all know Chris's status now and he's in competent hands. I have Final Exams this week, so I probably won't be updating again for a bit. Next week I'm on vacation, going snowboarding, and won't have access to a computer. Then it's Christmas… so it'll be a while before the next update. Hope you guys can last that long! I'll be writing stuff on notebook paper so that I can type it up and post it when I do get access to a computer again. Since I can't think of anything else to say right now, I'll just get to the thanks for the reviews from the last chapter:

persephone25: Thank you! Don't worry, Chris will be all right eventually. Everything happens for a reason.

petites sorcieres: Sorry for frustrating you:) Take deep breaths, it'll be okay, promise!

JPFAN: I'm glad you like the brotherly angsty moments. I like them too and I like writing them. Wyatt is a good big brother.

charmedtomeetyou: I'll update as soon as I'm able. I've got to work on my other story before I can update this one again. I want to get one more update out before I go on vacation next weekend.

Embry: Thank you for reading!

brilliantbrunette494: Protective Wyatt is great, isn't he? It makes me so happy that you love the story!

Sandy Murray: Thank you for the review!

Shanabear: Thanks!

Hellgirl77: Heehee, everyone keeps saying that they can't wait to see what happens next, I must be doing something right! Thank you for the review.

Zeria: I love your reviews! Thank you. I'm glad you were able to imagine everything perfectly in the last chapter. I was a little worried about that. :) Wyatt and Chris have a nice quirky relationship. There'll be more interaction between them in future chapters.

Amantine: I'm trying to control myself. It's just a challenge not to stop things when they come to one of those 'on the edge of your seat' endings. Torture isn't one of my hobbies… okay, well, not really, I do enjoy torturing characters in my stories. But I don't mean to torture my readers! Thank you for the review. I hope this chapter answered a little bit more of your question as to what's going to happen to Chris. Poor guy. And you don't need to apologize for your questions! They're great, they motivate me and help me get more into the story even! So if you have questions, feel free to ask them and I'll do my best to explain.

JessieBee185: Heehee. Can I just say how awesome I think you are and how much your reviews mean to me? It makes me smile. Yep. All the cousins are girls (Except H.J. who is adopted), Melinda is a cousin rather than some imaginary daughter of Piper's… that's just the way it is and will be in all my stories. :) I like writing character angst as much as I enjoy reading it… and I like to throw in the little sarcastic, quirky, and humorous moments/comments to keep it from being too serious, like the conversation between the boys. I hope this chapter didn't disappoint you!

Heartwitch: Thank you for the review… lol… yeah, if I were in Wyatt's shoes and someone did that to one of my younger siblings? The jerk would be toast.

Skya Hypnosis: Aww! Your review made me blush. Thank you so much!


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Charmed, or any of its characters… I just wish I did.

**Author's Note**: Isn't it nice when author's update before they think they will? It's short, but this demanded to be written out before I could get back to studying. Who am I to argue? I'm sure you all don't mind an early posting of the next part here.

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It was nearly another hour before a nurse came to the ICU waiting room to tell the family that Chris had been settled into his new room and that only two people could go in for just a few minutes to see him tonight. She reminded them that visiting hours were technically over, but that they could spend more time tomorrow.

Leo ran his hands through his hair and over his weary face as he offered his hand to his wife to help her to her feet. It was almost midnight, but Piper's sisters and their respective husbands hadn't left. Melinda had woken up and had proceeded to flip through the waiting room's magazines without actually reading any of them. Wyatt had continued wearing holes in the hospital floor and he looked crestfallen at the fact that only two could go back to see Chris.

Leo looked at his oldest son and opened his mouth to offer that Wyatt go in his place, but Wyatt stopped him. "No, Dad, you go… I… I can wait," he said quietly, sinking into a seat for the first time in hours and looking up at his parents with a forlorn face. "Just tell him to get better… and that I'm sorry, and I'll see him tomorrow…" Wyatt paused for a second, forcing a smile onto his haggard face, "…tell him I'm pissed at him for getting hurt and that I know he just did this because he didn't want to see me crowned Homecoming King…" Wyatt managed the words with a shadow of humor, but his wavering voice gave him away to Leo that it was just a front of trying to be strong.

Smiling gently, he walked over to Wyatt and pulled his son into a hug. Wyatt returned it with a weak effort and lowered his eyes as Leo and Piper followed the nurse out of the room. The Whitelighter-turned-Mortal could hear Phoebe trying to talk to Wyatt as he and his wife left the room. He agreed with his sister-in-law. He knew that had to be hard for Wyatt to give up the opportunity to see Chris.

The two were next to inseparable. Leo was appreciative that the two brothers were so close, but he didn't know how he could have ever had any doubts about it. Then again, in the alternate future that the twenty-two year old Chris had returned from, Wyatt had been evil. That had always been something in the back of Leo's mind as much as he would have hated to admit it. But Wyatt didn't have an evil bone in his body. Wyatt was mischievous, maybe, but he had grown up into a mature and kind-hearted young man who cared about his family. The first Chris had accomplished what he had come back to do and the heavy concern Leo's oldest son was experiencing now was proof of that.

Thoughts of the other Chris still stung Leo, and every day he noticed mannerisms in his youngest son that he had seen so many years ago in his adult-self. They always brought back bittersweet memories. He had tried so hard to make up for his behavior in that alternate future, but every day he lived with the guilt of not having been able to save his son and send him safely back to his changed future.

The nurse pressed a button on the wall and the pair of doors with _Intensive Care Unit_ emblazoned on them opened automatically for the three of them to walk through. Piper's eyes were red-rimmed and puffy and she held onto Leo's hand as if to a lifeline. Leo wanted to be supportive of his wife, but he needed her just as much.

The nurse stopped, gesturing to a room that had _'Halliwell, Christopher P.'_ written in neat handwriting on a slip of paper outside the door. "I'll give you five minutes, but then I'm going to have to ask you to leave for the night."

Piper looked like she wanted to argue, but Leo rested a hand on her arm and shook his head. They would be grateful for what they could get. Hospital policy was being bent for them as it was. Leo steeled himself to what was waiting inside the room, took a breath and stepped inside.

He had seen lots of horrible things as a doctor during World War Two, but nothing could ever prepare _anyone_ for seeing their own child in the Intensive Care Unit. Leo closed his eyes, blinking back the tears that welled up and walked into the room once he collected himself. He pulled a chair to their son's bedside for Piper to sit in.

A bandage wound around Chris's head, the cervical collar remaining on his neck as a precaution, and a tube down Chris's throat was attached to a ventilator keeping his breathing slow and regular. The boy's left leg was in a cast and suspended above him to keep it elevated. Piper sank heavily into the chair and gently took her son's left hand into her own, careful of the IV tubes attached to it, providing fluids and probably sedatives as well. The soft steady 'beep' of the heart rate monitor drew Leo's eyes to it and he watched the line of Chris's pulse pass along the screen.

He took hold of the back of Piper's chair to keep himself standing and looked at Chris's face. If not for the surroundings, the bandage, and the tubes and monitors attached to him, his little boy could be sleeping. He looked so small and frail lying there and Leo felt his jaw tighten and the tears threaten again. Seeing him lying there like that brought back those painful memories of watching his adult son die in his arms all over again and he shuddered.

"Hey baby," Piper whispered gently, rubbing Chris's hand between hers, "…Leo, pull the blanket up on him… he's cold."

How she could know whether or not he was cold, Leo didn't know, but he didn't argue with her. Taking the blanket to gently pull up over Chris's inert form. He paused to rest a hand on the side of his son's face before he returned to stand behind Piper with his hands resting on her shoulders.

"We were so worried," Piper said talking quietly to Chris. Leo heard her voice break and looked at his wife's face to see her tearing up again, "…but you're going to be okay. You're going to bounce right back from this. We need you to bounce back from this… and… and Wyatt said that he's sorry he couldn't come back too… he's so worried about you peanut… we all are and we just want you to get better okay…?"

Leo wanted to say something, but he couldn't find his voice to form any words at all. Piper reached a hand back to rest upon one of his that he had on her shoulders as they watched the mechanically rhythmic rise and fall of Chris's chest.

"M'am, Sir?" the nurse's voice said gently from the door. Their five minutes was up and the nurse was waiting to escort them back out of the ICU. Piper stood up slowly and leaned over Chris, kissing his cheek gently and running her hand over his face.

"We'll be back to see you in the morning, angel," she whispered, her voice breaking. Leo leaned down to kiss his son's forehead, something Chris never would have stood for had he been conscious to avoid the display of affection from his father. He adjusted the blanket over his son one last time, and then followed Piper out. "Sweet dreams, peanut," Piper said, "We love you."

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"Mom?" Chris slowly opened his eyes and blinked in confusion. He'd expected to wake up in as much pain as he had when he'd been in the ambulance. Actually, he'd expected to wake up either in the ambulance or in the hospital with his family standing worriedly around him… not… wherever he was now. The dark-haired teen's green eyes narrowed as he frowned and slowly propped himself up on one elbow. He had no idea where "here" was, or how he had gotten there. For a heartbeat he felt a flash of panic that he might be dead, but there was no Angel of Death standing by him. He wasn't sure whether to be relieved or afraid. There wasn't anyone around at all.

There was only the large willow tree that he had woken up under and a lush, elegant garden like none he had ever been to before. A strange, soft light permeated everything in an unearthly glow. It seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere all at once. Carefully, Chris gathered himself up to a full sitting position and moistened his lips as he surveyed his surroundings. He was sitting on a low hill, with a vantage point over the flowers tall trees and stone pathways spreading out Chris couldn't see anyone else in the walled garden.

"Hello?" Chris called out softly. Although he didn't _see_ anyone around him, there was this strange feeling of eyes everywhere watching him. He didn't like the feeling at all. He should be at the hospital and he knew he should be. Maybe it was a dream. Did you dream when you were unconscious? He wasn't going to learn anything just sitting here. Chris climbed to his feet and looked down at his clothes and gained yet another shock.

One moment he was wearing his football uniform, the next his clothing melted and shifted to jeans and a t-shirt over a white long sleeved shirt, the next moment his shirt changed again to a baggy sweatshirt, then to a polo shirt that his mother had forced him to wear for a family photograph… Chris swallowed hard and took his eyes away from his shifting clothing because it made him nauseous. _What the hell is going on?_ he wondered, walking down the hill towards the winding path. "Maybe I hit my head harder than I thought," he whispered.

He couldn't see anything beyond the garden for the tall trees and the ivy covered stone walls. If he was dreaming, this was one hell of a strange dream. "Hello? Anyone there?" Chris called again. He knew his clothes had shifted again, back to the football uniform, complete with helmet this time. Chris frowned in annoyance and pulled the helmet off of his head and tossed it aside, it vanished before it hit the ground. Chris froze in place staring at the spot that it should have hit.

_Dreaming_, Chris thought, _I'm dreaming._ He pinched his arm hard, "OW!" Wincing, Chris rubbed the spot that he'd just pinched, frowning at the red mark that it had left. "Okay… not supposed to hurt in dreams…"

"…Wyatt?" he called out with growing trepidation, "Mom? Dad? Aunt Paige? Phoebe? Hello?" Insecurities whisked through Chris's mind and he caught his lower lip between his teeth in an identical expression to the one that he had no idea Wyatt had been using all evening. He gave a shake of his head and whispered harshly at himself, "Pull your self together Chris. Whatever is going on, you'll figure it out…" With that said, he started down one of the winding garden paths through the trees.

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**Author's Note:** Want more? Click that little button at the bottom and write me a review to encourage me! Heehee…


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Charmed, or any of its characters… I just wish I did.

**Author's Note**: Did that last bit with Chris get you curious? I know some of you have been making guesses as to what's going on, but I'm not going to tell you what's going on yet! That would spoil all the fun. You're more than welcome to keep guessing though. Some of you are writing awesome, awesomely long reviews. They're _great_ and they make me smile so much! They keep me motivated and encourage me so very much. I jump up and down with glee when I see a nice long review waiting for me in my mailbox. And Jess, you are NOT allowed to send leprechauns to steal all of my left shoes! I will look silly hobbling around with only one shoe, not to mention I won't be able to be part of that whole 'left shoe trend' thing.

Of course, that only matters when I'm out in public anyway… I'd prefer to be barefoot 24/7 if I could choose to do so, but ya know, all those pesky places that require shirts and shoes in this day and age…Not that I would run around shirtless! Just shoeless! OMG! The scandal!

All right I've been silly enough, time to get on with the story, I hope you enjoy. This is the longest chapter yet. I think I'm compensating for the last one being so short.

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It was an hour and a half past midnight when Piper pulled the car into the driveway of the Halliwell Manor. No one had said anything the entire ride home. Coop, Phoebe and Melinda had driven Paige and Henry back to their house in the van before heading home themselves. They had only reluctantly left Piper, Leo and Wyatt after asking at least a dozen times if there was anything they could do. Wyatt's mom had told them that if they changed their minds they could call, but really they just wanted to go home… and that Phoebe, Paige and their families should try to get some sleep.

Wyatt doubted he would be able to sleep. He was exhausted to be sure, but he couldn't see how he would be able to sleep at all knowing that his little brother was laying in Critical Care surrounded by a bunch of strangers all night.

Piper parked the car and Wyatt got out before either of his parents could say anything to him and walked into the house. He knew his mother and father exchanged worried looks with one another behind his back, but he just pulled his keys out and unlocked the door. He left it open so that they could come in after him and trudged heavily up the stairs to his room, carrying hit football jersey and pads in his left hand.

The tall, blonde youth stopped when he passed the open door into Chris's room and looked into the darkened space. They'd only gotten their own rooms at the beginning of last year. Wyatt had complained about it and about not having any privacy with his little brother constantly around. They needed space and Chris had agreed wholeheartedly. Piper had consented, and Leo had helped the two boys set up their own rooms. The separate living spaces had worked out just fine, for all of two days, before their parents had caught Wyatt sleeping in a sleeping bag on the floor in Chris's room. Then a week later, Chris was found doing the same thing in Wyatt's room.

Sighing softly, Wyatt pulled himself away from Chris's doorway and nudged open his own door with his foot. He dropped his football gear on the floor just inside the doorway and flipped on the light. There wasn't going to be any sneaking into one room or the other tonight. Wyatt did consider orbing to the hospital to check in on Chris, but thought better of it. He had no idea how to explain himself if he got caught and it was far too big a risk.

Wyatt sunk heavily onto the corner of his bed and raked his fingers through his blonde curls. He needed a shower, he knew and he needed to change, but right that moment he could find neither the energy nor the motivation to do so. The blinking light on his answering machine caught his attention.

Reaching over, Wyatt mashed the button. Another of his battles won with his mother, his own phone line. It had been a compromise. Wyatt had wanted a cell phone and Piper had refused. The bargain they eventually came to was that Wyatt would get his own phone line at the house so long as he helped pay for any charges that went over the standard monthly bills.

"You have five new messages and two old messages," the mechanical voice chimed.

"New Message. Friday, October 16. 4:23 pm. _Hey, Wyatt. Good luck against Lincoln tonight! Jessie and I will be in the stands. You looked cute today at the pep rally with the silly string all over you. I'll see you after the game._"

Wyatt hit the delete button on the message. He hadn't exactly seen Caitlin or Jess after the game.

"New Message. Friday, October 16. 9:15 pm._ Wyatt… um… hey… it's Jess. I was just calling to see if Chris was okay and to say that if there is anything you need… um… hey, just call me, okay… I hope he's alright… Caitlin's worried sick she couldn't even dial her phone to call you… Call me… I… I'm gonna go check on her, okay… will you call me?_"

"New Message. Friday, October 16. 9:55 pm._ Dude, it's Jake. Just trying to find out how C-squared is. A bunch of us are at Tori's. We're all hanging out by the phone and hoping that you'll call. We'll be here all night. Tell your brother that we won. We kicked Lincoln's asses all over the field for what they did, the lousy assholes. We don't really feel like celebrating though and I'm sure you don't, but if you want to come over when you get back from the hospital you know where to find us._"

"New Message. Friday, October 16. 10:15 pm. _Wy. it's D.J. I just heard. Caitlin called me hysterical and Jess was in the background trying to calm her down. Did she call you? God, I hope Jess made her take a Valium or something before she let her call you. The girl is mental. I would've been at the game myself, but you know me. I'm allergic to that much school spirit. Man, I'm sorry. How is he? You probably don't feel like talking about it. Look, if you want to go to the Underworld and blow off some steam tonight, I'll go with you. I'm only a shimmer away. I'd have gone to the hospital, but your mom's still pissed at me about the Kerberos demon and that bar thing… it was worth it._"

"New Message. Friday, October 16. 10:32 pm. _I guess this means we're probably off for the double date at the dance tomorrow night, huh? I hope your brother is okay. I don't know what I would do if anything happened to Hayden. We're staying with Jess tonight since our parents are out of town… I… I feel like I should have gone to the hospital… I'm sorry Wy… God, I hope Chris is going to be okay. I've got my cell phone on. Call me, okay?"_

"Old Messages… Thursday, Octob--" Wyatt hit the stop button and flopped face first onto the pillows of his bed. He drew a shaky breath and closed his eyes, half smothering himself in the downy pillows. He wasn't going to go to sleep, but he really didn't feel like calling anyone back. Even if anyone was still awake, he didn't want to talk to anyone right now. He figured at least Jake and the guys would still be awake and he knew D.J. wouldn't give a damn what hour of the night he called, but Wyatt wasn't about to pick up the phone. Either they would be all sympathetic or they'd try to cheer him up. He didn't want anyone to cheer him up right now, which he knew would happen if he called anyone.

He heard his parents climbing the stairs to head to their room and rolled over onto his back. With a small flick of his wrist he shut his door with Telekinesis and followed up by turning off the light in the same manner. Wyatt stared up at the ceiling of his room in the dark and sighed. The constellations in glow-in-the-dark stars that Chris had glued up there when they still shared this room greeted him. It was going to be a long night. He knew he wasn't going to sleep at all. Instead, he settled for naming each of the constellations one by one.

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Large, leafy trees continued to cover the path that Chris walked along. The silence had been so unnerving that when the first group of songbirds had burst from a bush to swoop through the air cheerfully singing, Chris had leapt nearly a foot off the ground and landed in a crouch ready for a fight. He swallowed hard and lifted a hand to his chest, trying to calm down the rapid beating of his heart as he looked to where they had alighted upon a branch. Just birds. But they were the first living thing he had seen yet.

There weren't any shadows here thanks to that strange omnipresent light that reached even through the canopy of the trees that lined the path he was on. Roses predominated the flowers that grew as if wild and untamed. There were so many things here that didn't make any sense at all. At least his clothes had finally seemed to settle themselves with a little concentration his part. Everything else was confusing enough without his clothes constantly going through queasy shifts from one outfit to the next.

He'd figured out that if he concentrated on them they would stay the same. Now he wore one of his favorite t-shirts. A tan shirt that stated simply: _Johnny was a chemist's son, But Johnny is no more. What Johnny thought was H2O was H2SO4._ There was a little cartoon image next to the writing of a boy holding a glass with X's for eyes. Chris had a dark brown, long sleeved cotton shirt over it and ragged jeans. The attire choice that he had affixed in his mind was in deliberate contradiction to the medieval-seeming castle garden he was walking through. It was the outfit Wyatt had affectionately dubbed Chris's "homeless nerd look".

Chris frowned, worrying where Wyatt was and what he was doing right now. "Hello?" Chris called out again, turning quickly to look behind him. That sense of being watched by eyes all around only made his already uneasy feeling worse. For what seemed like the hundredth time he wondered where he was and how he had gotten there. This wasn't anything he had ever seen in the Book of Shadows or heard of before. Chris raked his hands through his unruly brown hair and took yet another uncertain step forward. "Is anyone here?"

This time, unlike the last several, silence wasn't the only answer that Chris received. Distant, the sound of a subtle melody carried on the absent breeze. The musical notes of some instrument followed by the distant sound of someone's voice singing with it.

_A Stór Mo Chroí__ when you're far away_  
_From the home you will soon be leaving_  
_It's many a time by night and by day_  
_When your heart will be sorely grieving._

_For the stranger's land may be bright and fair_  
_Rich in its treasures golden_  
_But you'll pine, I know, for days long, long ago_  
_And the one that is never olden._

It was faint, the sound far off and Chris wasn't certain if he wasn't possibly imagining it. "Not like I have anything else to do," he mumbled, before following the sound and taking the turn in the path to the left towards the notes of some lilting musical instrument and the subtle sounds of song. If there was someone here… maybe… maybe he could get answers…

_A Stór Mo Chroí__ in the stranger's land_  
_There is plenty of wealth and wailing_  
_Where gems adorn the great and the grand_  
_Where the faces with hunger paling._

_When the road it is tiresome and hard to tread_  
_And the lights of their cities blind you_  
_Oh turn a stór to Erin's shore_  
_And the one that you leave behind you._

Chris was sure that there was someone singing now as he kept following the path after the haunting notes that carried through the stillness.

_A Stór Mo Chroí__ when the evening mist_  
_Over mountain and sea is falling_  
_Oh turn a stór and then you list_  
_And maybe you will hear me calling._

_For the sound of a voice you will surely miss_  
_Somebody speedily returning_  
_A run, a run won't you come back soon_  
_To the one that will always love you._

It was lilting feminine voice and one that matched with the music notes of what Chris deduced to be a stringed instrument. It wasn't a guitar, whatever it was. The singing stopped, but the melody carried on, shifting to another song. The notes of this song were sad and somber, still pulling Chris forward. Chris's next steps forward were far more cautious than they had been before. There was nothing to tell him if whoever was ahead of him was a friend or a foe and he'd convinced himself that he wasn't simply dreaming. He was sure that if he was, he would have woken up by now. The sound of the music was drawing closer. Still, music and singing meant there was someone, and friend or foe, they could still provide him with answers.

Chris stopped just at the entrance into another small clearing, keeping himself mostly hidden by the leafy foliage. There were roses of many different colors growing wildly in this section and stone benches under flowering arbors. Seated beneath one of the arbors was a young woman carefully plucking at the strings of an instrument that Chris recognized when he saw it, though had only seen a number of times he could count on one hand in person. A harp. The young woman paid Chris no mind at all. Her eyes were closed as she gently ran her fingers over the strings, humming a tune wordlessly.

The teenaged Witchlighter's brow furrowed as he took sight of her and his breath froze in his throat, afraid a sound might disturb the scene in front of him. His previous decision that he wasn't dreaming, yet again changed. It was like some fantastically painted page out of one of the Fairy Tales his mother had so often read to he and Wyatt growing up. He _had_ to be dreaming this.

Caught somewhere between late adolescence and early adulthood, there was a gentle and regal grace about the harpist. A quiet confidence. Effortless poise. Red-gold tresses tumbled idyllically free from a loose hairstyle to frame her delicate, heart shaped face. Bound in her hair were a series of playful red ribbons. Her cream colored skin was unblemished in youthfulness. High cheekbones carried a warm blush with a sprinkle of freckles across her small upturned nose. She was a natural beauty with all the bearing of some kind of fairytale princess or queen, complete with a simple golden, filigree crown resting upon her brow.

Red velvet the color of sun kissed rubies flowed over her figure, the skirt of the grown pooled about the ground at the base of the bench she sat upon. Gold thread had been expertly woven to ring a square neckline as it dipped down across her chest in an intricate pattern of abstract design and flowing vines. The bodice of the gown had been specifically tailored for her, accentuating and enhancing womanly curves as it wrapped its soft fabric around. The sleeves puffed faintly at the shoulder, but were again tailored to fit smoothly over the slight muscling of the arms down to a pointed wrist, trimmed in a smaller version of the neckline's golden embroidery.

A golden belt of sunbursts was wrapped about her slender waist, dangling its twin lengths in the front with the pointed cut of the waist. The skirt itself was full, gathered beneath the smoothness of the bodice and let flow like a crimson waterfall over her legs to the floor. The hem of the dress's golden embroidery truly flared to life up the front, in dancing spirals and vine motifs, while it filled the back and train of the skirt with a similar design.

Her slender hands plucked another string of notes and she lifted her head to look in Chris's direction, as though sensing there was someone watching her. Her eyes were like two bottomless frosty-blue pools, large and ringed with thick, dark lashes. Chris's jaw hung agape at the sight that added a whole new level of unbelievability to this illusion.

The young woman gave a start when she realized that there _was_ someone else there and she stood up with a wide, fearful expression shining in her eyes. As she got to her feet the harp vanished and she nearly tripped over her skirts. Chris was too awe-struck to move, rooted to the spot he was standing. So, when the girl gathered her skirts and took off running down the path away from him, he just blinked after her for several dragging seconds before he shook himself out of his daze and started after her.

"Hey, wait!" Chris shouted. It had nothing to do with teenaged hormones warring with his rational mind telling him that chasing her might not be a good idea. His concentration on keeping his clothes to one outfit was lost, but at this point he didn't care how many garments were cycled through. He'd found someone here and she might have answers.

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"You woke up early," Piper said gently from the table in the kitchen when Wyatt shuffled in. Her eldest son looked as exhausted, weary, and worried as she herself felt.

"I think to 'wake up early' requires that the person involved actually went to sleep first," Wyatt said. He shuffled over to the table and sank down heavily in a chair, covering his face with his hands, elbows resting on the surface.

"Do you want to eat something?" Piper asked, softly. She had cooked enough for a small army to sit down for breakfast, or at least the Halliwell clan on a Saturday morning. She had hoped the cooking would help her, but it hadn't. She had gotten so used to when she was cooking, Chris being right there at her side working in concert with her to get the meal ready. It just hadn't been the same without him bumping into her with that roughish little smile that told her it hadn't been an accident. Nor had it been quite the same without him sneaking ingredients for "taste tests" and making witty conversation while they worked. She would have even been happy for one of the more silent mornings with him, when her youngest son didn't feel like talking because he was trying to work out some inner-struggle himself.

"Not hungry," Wyatt's hollow voice answered.

Piper sat for a moment, watching him, then nodded, admitting softly, "Neither am I."

It wasn't long before Leo came into the kitchen to join them. Piper's husband wordlessly got himself a cup of coffee and joined his silent family, absent one member, at the table. No one touched the food that Piper had prepared, which was just as well.

The jingling sound of someone orbing in disrupted the unnatural silence and three heads turned in unison to look towards it. Piper scolded herself internally for that heartbeat of hope that it would be Chris orbing in completely unharmed, rolling his eyes at his family and grabbing a muffin with some wry remark. Completely vain hope was squashed when it turned out to be Paige and her family.

Henry staggered a bit once he resolidified, "I don't know how anyone could ever get used to that." He silenced himself again when he realized no one in the room was speaking, and looked towards Paige.

Paige sighed, and did exactly what Chris would have done in the situation considering she had been the boy's tutor. Paige grabbed one of the muffins from the basket, rolled her eyes at her family, peeled the paper from it and threw the muffin at Wyatt's head. It bounced off and landed on the table, while Wyatt looked up at his Aunt in wide-eyed bewilderment that quickly turned to annoyance. Henry Jr. and the twins, standing behind their parents, giggled.

"Would you all _lighten up_? I know not a single one of you got an hour of sleep last night, but you're acting like someone died! He's in the hospital, people, not the morgue!" Paige said brusquely.

That was not what Piper wanted to hear this morning, which she communicated pointedly to her sister with a hostile stare. "Yes, Paige. Thank you for pointing that observation out to me. My son is in the hospital. In the _Intensive Care Unit_… you didn't see him last night. Do _not_ tell me to _lighten up!_"

Paige's children, not really understanding what was going on just looked at the adults, before they pulled out chairs and began to dig into the spread of breakfast foods that Piper had laid out. Wyatt flinched though at the shrill sound of his mother's voice.

"Wy, you want a muffin that hasn't bounced off the side of your head?" six-year-old Parvati offered Wyatt. Her twin sister Patricia covered her mouth to suppress another giggle and reached to fill her plate with blueberry pancakes.

Wyatt simply shook his head and covered his face again. Piper stood up, grabbing her coffee mug and walked over to the pot. Much to her annoyance, Paige followed. Henry and Henry, Jr. sat at the table with the rest. Piper could feel Leo's eyes on her, but he probably sensed the growing tension between her and her youngest sister and wisely chose to avoid adding fuel to the fire.

Paige followed Piper into the kitchen, "Do you think he would be happy seeing you all moping around here? Hell no! Get a grip on yourself Piper. I know I didn't see him last night laying in there in the ICU, but I do know what it's like to see a family member looking so helpless. Or have you forgotten about that?"

Piper chose to ignore her this time, pulling the coffee pot angrily out and starting to pour it into her cup. She hissed in pain when she managed to spill some onto her hand and the dropped the pot with a noisy and messy clatter onto the floor. "Damn it!"

The younger woman walked over, taking Piper's burnt hand in hers and cupped her other hand over it offering the soft golden glow of healing. "Don't take this out on me or on yourself, Piper. Chris doesn't need that. He's going to be okay. Why don't you go in there and sit down, try to eat something from that gourmet breakfast you made? I'll clean up this mess… and in an hour, when Phoebe and her family get here we'll all go to the hospital and see Chris."

With a resigned sigh, Piper nodded, consenting to Paige's suggestion. As she left the room to return to where Paige's children had finally convinced even Wyatt to eat a little something, she heard Paige say, "He'll be okay Piper. You know he will." She might have known it, but it didn't make her worried mothering instincts go away.

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"Hey, wait!" Chris shouted after the girl. She was running faster than he would have expected for her to, dressed the way she was. "Slow down!"

Chris was quick too and he was already gaining on her. The golden-haired girl took a sharp right turn off the path and into the trees. He was sure he could catch her now. There was no way she could navigate through the woods in that medieval gown and remain ahead of him. Then again…

"Ow!" Chris yelped as a thin branch slapped back at him. He put his hands up to protect his face and plowed after that elusive flash of red. He watched her vanish ahead of him and growled, not willing to give up. "Will you stop for a minute? I just want to talk!"

Of course she didn't stop. He could see ahead that they were coming to another clearing. The girl plunged out of the tree line and Chris followed just a few seconds later. He thought he had been right behind her. When Chris burst into the clearing, breathing heavily, she had vanished. Chris swore under his breath and stopped, trying to figure out where she had gone. "Where the hell did she---umpf!"

The young Witchlighter's feet were swept from under him and he thrust his arms out to break his fall. Even so, Chris hit the ground with a grunt, landing on his back. The girl wasted no time in straddling his chest to hold him down. Her frosty blue eyes were flashing dangerously as she held a ruby-hilted dagger to his throat.

She was no longer wearing a gown, but her choice in clothing was still something out of a Renaissance Faire. A pair of snug fitting black breeches tucked into polished knee-high black riding boots had replaced her skirts. Her upper body was now clothed in a crimson peasant blouse with golden embroidery. The girl's red-gold curls were pulled back from her face in a loose tail at the base of her neck with that thin, golden circlet still resting upon her brow. "I will not hesitate to use this if I have to," she warned, "Who are you?" The girl's voice demanded in liltingly accented tones.

Chris started to move, but fell still again when she raised a golden eyebrow and pressed her weapon a bit more firmly against his throat. Suddenly his idea to chase after her was looking like a less than bright decision. He swallowed hard and glared up at her with emerald eyes, "I could ask you the same question."

"I asked you first," the girl retorted, "And, I would say that out of the two of us, you are the one at a distinct disadvantage. Now, answer the question. Who. Are. You. Did _she_ send you?"

"Chris," he answered, leaning his head back as she increased the blade's pressure again. He wasn't sure why he was so concerned about it. This was just a dream after all. It had to be just a dream, even if it was an eerily real one that made absolutely no sense at all. Yet, some instinct in his mind told him that wherever he was, there was a very real possibility of death from that blade. "Sent me? Who? I… no one sent me…" Chris thought about orbing out from under her and turning the tables on her and he was weighing his options of whether he would be able to do it before she slit his throat.

"If she didn't send you, how did you get here?" the girl asked distrustfully, without letting up the pressure even a hair.

"No one sent me! I don't know _how_ I got here! I don't even know where _here_ is!" Chris growled up at her in annoyance.

She thought for a moment and very slowly drew the dagger back from his throat but she remained on top of him, holding him down. Her frosty eyes remained trained on him though as she thrust the dagger in a hilt worn at her waist. "I don't know why, but I believe you," she said, "against my better judgment. You look harmless enough."

Chris stared up at her, muttering under his breath, "…note to self, do not let Wyatt find out you got your ass handed to you by a girl… worse, you _dreamed_ it yourself." His hands raked his unruly brown hair away from his eyes now that she wasn't going to use that dagger on him, "Okay, so who are you supposed to be? Little Red Riding Hood? Sleeping Beauty?"

"Who are _you_ supposed to be? You're no King Arthur in those rags." The girl crossed her arms over her chest, looking at him. She sighed, closed her eyes for a moment, and then at last offered her name, "Alwynne. So… Chris. How did you get here?"

"Would you mind getting off of me, so that I can sit up? I don't know how I got here. I hit my head playing football. One minute I was in the ambulance on my way to the hospital… the next I'm…"

"Hospital?" she interrupted him quietly. A confused look passed over Alwynne's features and in the blink of an eye nearly everything about her changed. She slid off of him and sat blinking awkwardly as though someone had pricked the bubble she lived in with a pin. Maybe Chris had. Her frosty eyes filled with an immense sadness and her medieval clothes melted into something far more modern. A pair of jeans replaced the breeches, but she still had her riding boots, and a pale blue sweater replaced the peasant blouse. She no longer looked the part of a young princess or Queen, but a lost teenaged girl who was perhaps a year or so older than Chris.

Slowly the whole scene around them changed. The idyllic garden fit for a palace turned into a stark, cold, hospital room. Chris hastily pushed himself to a sitting position, gaping as the panorama altered itself right before his eyes. Gone were the roses and flowering trees, replaced by concrete, glass, curtains… when he looked back at Alwynne she had her face buried in her hands and she was shaking.

Chris slid over to rest a hand on her shoulder, startled at the change in her. She had gone from being so commanding to almost shrinking in on herself in a heartbeat. Alwynne lifted her face to look up at him, blue eyes watery with unshed tears. He could barely hear her voice when she spoke, "She won't let me leave… she… she won't let me…"

"Who? Who won't let you leave? What's going on?" Chris asked, feeling his heartbeat begin to race.

"I can't… I can't… you need to go. You can't stay here!" she said suddenly, pulling away from him. She pushed him back. "You shouldn't _be_ here! I… I don't know how you got here, but you need to go… you need to go _now!_ Before she finds you here… you have to go! You have to get out of here!"

Chris gawked at her in confusion as she hastily stood up. "Before _who_ finds me?" Chris asked, shoving himself to his feet too, "And where is _here_ exactly? I don't know how to leave! I don't even know where I _am!_" He grabbed her hand when she looked like she was going to flee again and held onto it, staring at her intensely. He needed answers, he couldn't just let her run off again.

"_Domhan'al'taibhream_. The World of Dreams," she breathed softly. She drew her hand away. "Go _Aisling siúlóir_. Go before _Tromlui d'iníon_ comes! I have to go… you're not safe with me!" Chris stared as she ran out of the hospital room and down the hallway with red-gold curls bouncing. She shouted again. "You're not safe with me!"

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**Author's Note:** Okay, last update for a while. :) I hope you guys can last until I get back from vacation…

"_A Stór Mo Chroí_" is Irish and loosely translated means "darling of my heart."

_Domhan'al'taibhream_ translated means roughly "The World of Dreams."

_Aisling siúlóir_ translated means roughly "Dreamwalker."

_Tromlui d'iníon_ translated means… well… bwah hah hah… you can either look that one up yourself, or you can wait until the next few chapters when it will be explained.

Thank you so much to everyone who has read and reviewed. I really enjoyed writing this last bit and I'll be excited to return from my vacation to see what everyone has thought about it. Please hit that little button at the bottom and write me a nice review. I really like long ones, but even the short encouragements are wonderful! I just want to know who out there is reading my story and enjoying it!


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Charmed, or any of its characters… I just wish I did.

**Author's Note**: After being stranded in Denver thanks to the Blizzard, getting a horrible cold in the process of it, driving ten hours from Colorado through the ENTIRE state of Kansas in the car to get to an Airport that _was_ open, followed by _barely_ making it home for Christmas… let's just say the time since my last update has been insanely eventful! You should all be glad to know though that I have a whole bunch of hand-written pages that will begin being transcribed to type-written starting with this next chapter here.

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"Hello!" Phoebe called out as she opened the front door into the Manor and made her way inside. Saturdays were always spent with the family together at the Manor. It was just a shame that this particular Saturday was going to carry with it the heavy burden of knowing Chris was laying in a hospital bed. She paused in the entryway into the home that so many generations of Halliwells had grown up in and listened.

There were voices coming from the dining room, raised voices. Those voices sounded like they were coming from her two sisters, Piper and Paige. It didn't surprise her that she was yet again going to have to step in and be the moderator between the eldest and the youngest Charmed Sisters. Over the years it had happened more times than she would ever be able to count. She knew quite well now how Piper had always felt when mediating between she and Prue.

Without a glance behind her at her trailing family, Phoebe stepped further into the house.

"Will you QUIT telling me to RELAX?" Piper's voice shouted loud enough to shake the house's foundations.

"I didn't SAY it that time!"

"You MEANT it!"

"YES, I DID! You need to! Your family needs you to. Chris needs you to!"

"Don't you DARE tell me what Chris needs Paige. STOP telling me that I need to relax!"

The middle sister knew that her family would follow behind. Coop was no doubt getting five-year-old Pandora out of the van with the help of their other two daughters, Melinda and Penny. Penny and Pandora had the blessing of not really understanding what was going on, Melinda on the other hand hadn't slept from what Phoebe could determine from the dark circles under her eldest daughter's eyes. Mel denied it. Of course, Phoebe had slept very little either. By the looks of the weary faces of everyone except Paige's children, neither had the rest of her family.

Phoebe entered the dining room with caution. The absolute silence of everyone save for her quarreling sisters suggested that was to be the best tactic. Even the usually chatty Patti and Parvati were deathly silent and staring at their Mother and Aunt. Sandy-haired Henry Jr. was finding his orange juice to be the most interesting thing ever and his father clearly had similar interest in examining his. Clearly this tension had built up over the course of the morning and had finally come to a head.

Phoebe knew she should have come right over as soon as all of her family got moving this morning, instead of dawdling. She should have just let Coop heart-teleport them all over instead of taking the van.

"NO! I won't because you need to! You need to hear it even if you're too damn stubborn to listen!" Paige's voice shouted back, "And you wonder where Chris gets it from! The doctors will take care of him, he's going to be--"

"So help me, Paige," Piper's voice warned dangerously, "if you say that he's going to be _fine_ again, I will find a way to blow you to Tahiti!"

Paige looked defiantly at her eldest sibling, hands on her hips with her dark eyes flashing. Leo sunk down lower in his chair. From the doorway, Phoebe observed Wyatt wringing a napkin in his hands as the muscles in his jaw tightened. The young man's exhaustion hit her like an unstoppable wave, as did the other tense emotions, the utter sense of loss and softly simmering fury.

"Chris is a fighter, Piper. He's going to be--"

"Don't say it."

"--fine," Paige finished defiantly.

Piper's hands tightened into fists at her side and every glass on the table shattered in the same instant, including the pitcher of orange juice. Everyone at the table jumped and Wyatt leapt to his feet. The six-foot-one Witchlighter opened his mouth to join his mother in the argument but was cut off by Phoebe sticking two of her fingers into her mouth and giving a shrill whistle.

All heads in the room turned towards the woman standing in the doorway with her husband and daughters stepping up behind her. Piper slowly lowered her hands that she had raised to blast Paige next. Phoebe pointed at first her elder sister then her younger, "You and you, separate corners. Now." She pointed at Wyatt, "You. Sit."

Piper stared incredulously at Phoebe, then with a growl stormed out of the dining room at into the kitchen. Paige crossed her arms over her chest, narrowed her eyes at Phoebe and brushed past her to another part of the house. Phoebe wasn't sure which of them to go to first, but she patiently rubbed her hands against her temples and closed her eyes in order to get her empathetic powers under control again before she would face either of them.

Henry looked at the shattered remains of the glasses on the table, including his own that had burst in his hand. Thankfully it hadn't cut him. Then wordlessly got up to follow after his wife, motioning for their children to stay put. Leo got up and begin to attempt cleaning the mess in mechanical motions that spoke volumes of a man looking for something to do to keep himself busy.

Piper. Phoebe decided. She was the one that needed her more. Not only did Paige have Henry to cool her down, but Piper was the one whose child was hurt. "Girls, will you help Coop and your Uncle Leo clean up this mess? Junior, why don't you and Wyatt go outside and get some fresh air?"

"I don't want to get fresh air, Aunt Phoebe," Wyatt said hollowly, "I want to go see my brother. Besides, I thought you told me to _sit_."

Phoebe raised an eyebrow at him, hands still rubbing her temples. With a harassed sounding sigh, the seventeen year old stood up. Wyatt threw the wadded up napkin on his barely touched plate and stormed out the back with Henry Jr. scrambling to follow him. Phoebe watched Wyatt with a moment of sympathy as the muscular blonde departed.

Bracing herself for battle, Phoebe turned away from the scene of the clean up to head towards the kitchen in order to face the boy's mother. The moment she stepped into the kitchen she was greeted with defensiveness.

"Are _you_ going to tell me I need to relax too?"

"No," Phoebe answered. Piper turned and looked at her skeptically. Phoebe didn't need to be an empath to read her sister's face and know what was going on inside her head. "I think you have every right in the world to be as upset and worried as you are."

"I'm not upset," Piper snapped.

"Is that why everything on the breakfast table tastes like orange juice now?" Phoebe asked softly. She moved closer to Piper, but didn't touch her even if she did want to wrap her big sister into a soothing embrace. She would let Piper make that move when she was ready to.

Piper scowled and crossed the kitchen to open the refrigerator and root around inside of it, leaving her back turned to Phoebe. "I suppose you're going to tell me that Chris is going to be fine too then."

"No, I'm not going to do that either Piper," Phoebe said softly.

Phoebe could see Piper's shoulders were shaking slightly as she moved items around, silhouetted by the light from the refrigerator. So when Piper spoke again with her voice breaking, Phoebe expected it. "He… he looked so helpless Phoebe… all those tubes, the cast, the bandages… and he was all alone last night… all I could think of all night was that he might wake up and we wouldn't be there… and this morning…" Piper's voice continued to waver even as she stood and braced herself against the kitchen appliance. Her head dipped forward, and Phoebe had to strain to hear her, "…I kept waiting for him to come down and help me fix the food like he always does… and then Paige… I'm so scared for him… and Wyatt…"

Phoebe took a step closer and was surprised to find Piper turning and latching her arms around her neck. Phoebe didn't say anything, she just wrapped her arms around Piper in return, running her fingers soothingly through her big sister's hair and let her get it out. Her other hand ran calming circles on Piper's back.

A few heartbeats later, Paige cautiously entered into the room. Phoebe nodded to her. The youngest looked much calmer, apologetic, and there were tears shining in her eyes as well as she moved to join the pair of them. She wrapped her arms around both Phoebe and Piper, turning it into a three-way embrace.

"…I'm sorry…" she whispered regretfully, "…it's just the way I cope…"

"I know," Piper's tearful voice responded, "I'm sorry too."

The comforting exchange of embraces continued until all three of them seemed ready to release them. Phoebe stepped back and wiped Piper's cheeks with her thumb, then hugged her again before wiping her own watery eyes. "Now that we're all sorry… I think one of you needs to go have a word with Wyatt while the other one starts rounding everyone up. I sent him outside with Henry Jr."

Piper looked at Phoebe, "I'll get Wyatt, but what are you going to do?"

"Call Dad," she answered, "With everything that happened last night… not one of us thought to do it. He's going to be upset that we didn't call him right away, but hopefully he'll understand."

"I'm sure he'll want to meet us at the hospital," Paige said. Piper nodded and left the room after pulling herself together to talk to her eldest child. Paige looked at Phoebe, and then shrugged her shoulders; "I guess this leaves me to be Mother Hen with the rest of the troops."

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"So, tell me again why no one thought to pick up a phone and call me last night when my second oldest grandchild was taken to the Emergency room?" Victor Bennet asked from his seat in the I.C.U. Waiting Room. The small room was predominantly filled with members of the Halliwell family, only two of whom were unaccounted for because they were back with Chris. Piper and Wyatt had gone back together to see Chris first.

Victor's other grandchildren were all in the room. Pandora was busying herself with coloring in a coloring book. Patti and Parvati were playing a game of "Go Fish" with Henry Jr. and Penny. Melinda sat reading a book, or at least she was pretending to read a book. Victor hadn't seen her turn a page in at least thirty minutes.

The other three occupants of the Waiting Room were members of another patient's visiting family. Apparently none of them spoke any English. They had smiled the strained smiles when the Halliwells had all entered and taken various positions in the common, wordless language of worried family. Leo had said something to them in Korean, but after that the two families hadn't spoken a word to each other. The Korean folks could probably sense the tension among the Halliwell brood and decided to leave well enough alone.

"It's not that we didn't want to call you," Phoebe started to say.

Pandora held her picture up to her Grandfather proudly, a blue and green cat with a yellow nose. Victor nodded at her and smiles, "That's very nice, Dora." Satisfied, the girl sat back down and resumed her coloring, finding a new page. Victor returned his focus to the girl's mother. Phoebe was his youngest daughter, but he had since adopted Paige into his family too as if she were his own child rather than the result of an affair his wife had with her Whitelighter. That was a can of worms the man had finally buried after all these years.

Keeping news of his grandchildren's health, however, was a whole new matter. Especially Chris. He loved that kid. Grandfathers aren't supposed to have favorites, and Victor tried very hard to give equal love and attention to each of them. It was just that Chris had some special place in his heart. So, having found out as though in an afterthought of 'Oh, yeah, we should call Dad' that his favorite grandson was in Intensive Care had been extremely frustrating.

Phoebe was rubbing her temples again, "For Heaven's sake Dad. Quit taking it personally. Give us a break, we were just a little preoccupied worrying about Chris..."

"You thought to call that brainless babysitter you always have watch _my_ grandchildren… when _I _am perfectly capable I might add… but you didn't think to call me," Victor pointed out.

"She is not brainless. If you had been at the game in the first pl--" Phoebe began to counter.

"My meeting at the office ran later than I expected. When it was over, I just went home to get some sleep completely oblivious that anything was wrong with my family because someone didn't pick up the pho--"

"You and your meetings. That's _why_ I always call Billie to watch the kids before I call y--"

"Don't give me that crap. I've been home plenty of times when you've called her over me. It's because you don't think that I can protec--"

"I don't. Not since what happened the last time when you--"

A shrill whistle cut through the arguing between father and daughter. Piper stood in the doorway to the Waiting Room. One hand was resting on her hip, the other poised at her mouth.

Henry leaned over to whisper to Coop. Even though Henry's voice was quiet, Victor still caught the comment in the silence that Piper's whistle had created. "Is it just me or does everyone in this family need a permanent mediator?"

Victor saw Coop's head bob almost imperceptibly out of the corner of his eyes. It was a movement in agreement to what Henry had said. Victor couldn't quite make out what the Cupid told the mortal in response, but it was something to the effect of that mediator being the reason they were all in the hospital right now.

"Dad," Piper said, "I thought you might want to go back and see him now. Wyatt's still in there."

Victor and Phoebe both looked properly ashamed for having been caught arguing and he realized he was a lot more worried about Chris than he had initially thought. He hadn't even seen the kid yet and he was a wreck. Smiling sheepishly to his now snickering grandchildren and to his eldest living daughter, Victor stood up to go visit with Chris.

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"…Jake and the guys called and left a message last night," Wyatt said, "They won, so you don't have to be mad at me when you wake up for ditching the game and riding in the ambulance with you."

The consistent beeps of the heart rate monitor and the slow, mechanically rhythmic sounds of assisted breathing were the only response Wyatt received from his otherwise motionless little brother. Wyatt had a chair scooted up to the side of the bed so that he could hold Chris's hand in his and watch his little brother's face. There was a bit of subtle bruising showing along the right side of it now. The bandage that wound around the dark-haired teen's head mostly covered it. Their mother had just left to go let someone else in their family come back to visit Chris, understanding that Wyatt didn't want to leave him. She just knew. Mothers always knew those sorts of things.

"It was way too quiet last night without your snoring to wake me up," the elder witch continued. He was disappointed when Chris didn't open his eyes to glare at him and say that _he_ wasn't the brother with nighttime sinus issues. "Of course, for that to have happened, I would've had to have gone to sleep in the first place. I refuse to sleep until you wake up, bro. I have to know you're going to be okay."

For just a fraction of a second Wyatt could have sworn he felt a very faint tickle of an annoyed consciousness stirring in the back of his mind. He sat up straighter looking hopefully at Chris. Whatever it was, it was gone just as quickly and Wyatt sagged back into his chair, deflated. Only the same blank nothingness, the beeps at regular intervals, the sound of the ventilator and Chris lying there so vulnerable.

"You missed breakfast this morning," Wyatt said, attempting to continue the one-sided conversation, "Mom and Aunt Paige got into another fight and Mom blew up the glasses. Yeah, that set that we gave her for Mother's Day last year… the pitcher too. Should've seen it, orange juice went everywhere. It was classic."

Wyatt was drawn from his monologue by the presence of a hand resting on his shoulder and he lifted his stormy blue eyes to look up at his grandfather. "Well, at least I know the two of you got it honest," Victor said, "How is he?"

"The same," Wyatt replied to his grandfather.

Victor sat down in the chair that Piper had vacated just a short time ago, observing Chris just as Wyatt was doing. "I'm sorry I didn't make it to the game last night. I know it was a big one being Homecoming and all…"

"Don't worry about it. It's the first game you've missed since I was what? Ten?" Wyatt said, "I think I can forgive you and you know Chris will. Hey, bro, Grandpa's here. Said he's sorry for missing the game. Should I just tell him there was only half of it worth watching anyway?"

Victor patted Wyatt's shoulder, "Yeah, I only like watching sports if its my grandkids are involved." That was a good way of stretching the truth, Wyatt knew, since he, Chris and their grandfather had watched plenty of sports on television over the years. There was also that one time they had orbed to watch the Superbowl in person, until Paige had seen the three of them on TV. Henry had been watching the game at home and she'd spotted them, then had showed up and spoiled their fun. Piper still didn't know about that one.

"Involved," Wyatt said with a knowing smirk, "not necessarily _playing_."

"That's what I said isn't it?" Victor said, "You two seemed to be having a good conversation before I came in. Don't let me interrupt it."

Wyatt nodded, giving Victor a weak, but grateful smile. He rubbed his thumb over Chris's limp fingers and picked up the one-sided dialogue with his oblivious brother right where he'd left off. "Jessica's going to slug you for standing her up after she actually went out and bought a dress for the dance tonight," Wyatt said, "I think Caitlin actually had her looking forward to a double date." Wyatt actually waited a heartbeat to hear Chris's triumphant voice saying: _Hah! So, you admit it! It _is_ a date!_ When it didn't come he responded to it anyway, "Not that it's a _date_ date, since Cait and I are just friends…" and so he carried on with his grandfather occasionally contributing to the conversation as if Chris were actually participating in it.

Wyatt wasn't sure how much time had passed before his mother finally returned, but each member of the family - with the exception of those under the age of thirteen as per ICU rules - had taken turns coming to sit in the other chair beside Chris's bed. Wyatt hadn't left his brother's side and he didn't intend to unless someone made him.

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Piper frowned up at the clock on the wall over Chris's bed and did the same when her watch confirmed the time that it said. She had said very little since returning to Chris's room and rejoining Wyatt's vigilant watch over his younger sibling. Wyatt had been carrying on a conversation with Chris when she'd walked in and if she hadn't been warned ahead of time by the rest of her family it would have gotten her hopes up that Chris was awake to have heard Wyatt talking to him like he was.

She hadn't stopped him though. Piper had always heard that if someone was unconscious or in a coma they might be able to hear your talking to them. She had decided when she came back again she was going to bring a book with her to read to her son aloud. Not that Wyatt wasn't doing a fine job of keeping up a steady string of words about the boys friends at school and teachers that Chris should avoid, Piper just knew her oldest would get tired eventually.

A light rapping of knuckles came on the door far too soon and Piper sighed when she turned to see the nurse standing there.

"I'm sorry, five minute warning," The young woman said, "We have to ask you to leave from noon until two, to give the patients a chance to rest, for shift changes, and the doctor's afternoon rounds. There'll be a new shift here when you get back, I'll make sure to fill them in on everything." She nodded to Wyatt and Piper, and then repeated, "Five minutes," before ducking out into the next room.

Wyatt looked crestfallen that he had to leave and Piper couldn't blame him. She didn't want to leave her baby either. "We'll be back," she promised both of her sons. Seeing the crushed look on Wyatt's face and seeing her youngest son in the hospital bed was breaking her heart into millions of irreparable pieces.

"I don't want to leave," Wyatt said, his blue eyes shining with desperation, "I know I sensed something from him... Don't make me leave. I want to be here in case he wakes up."

"Sweetie," Piper said gently when she saw Wyatt lock his jaw defiantly, "I want to be beside him in case he wakes up just as much as you do. It's killing me to leave him in here like this, but the doctors are keeping him sedated. Chances are he's not going to wake up while we're gone." That broke her heart too. "I know how much you want to sense something from him that he will… and he _will_, but not yet." She hoped her words sounded more believable to him than they did to her.

Piper's sweet, strong, tender-hearted, brave son's conquered expression reminded her just how much Wyatt was still her little cherub-faced boy. He might tower over her in height now and he was months away from his eighteenth birthday, but he was still her little baby and he always would be. It was times like these that she really noticed it. Just like seeing Chris, who fought so hard for independence, like this reminded her of how much she wanted to protect them both.

The nurse walked past the room again and looked in, but she said nothing to hurry them out and for that Piper was grateful.

The dark-haired woman, who had more gray hairs thanks to her two sons, moved to adjust the blanket over Chris. Wyatt stood up, reluctantly letting his brother's hand go. Piper bent to give Chris a kiss, "We'll be back, Peanut."

"You know, he hates it when you call him that," Wyatt said, as his mother started towards the door. The older boy caught his lower lip between his teeth and looked down at Chris one last time before he followed Piper.

"That's news to me," Piper said.

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**Author's Note:** Now… you've read my next installment. Click that little button down there and give me a review to brighten my day and make me feel better. I need the motivation and the support. Really. Honestly. Click the button. I know some of you are dying to growl at me for not including a Chris P.O.V. in this chapter! There will be in the next one… I promise… plus _Flashbacks_!


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Charmed, or any of its characters… I just wish I did. The Princess Bride doesn't belong to me either, alas, but it is one of my favorite books… so darn it, it's one of Chris and Wyatt's favorites too!

**Author's Note**: My goodness, I was a writing machine this chapter. It just kept coming. I finally had to cut myself off because I was getting a little carried away with transcribing my hand written pages! I didn't want to make the chapter too long, but I did want to get to a good stopping point. There are two things that I promised in this chapter: A Chris Point Of View and a flashback… plus something that I know some folks have been wanting, but not something that I had mentioned would be in this chapter. What's that? Some interaction between Wyatt and a few of his friends. :) I hope you like it. Please R&R!

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_You're not safe with me._ The golden-haired girl's words echoed in Chris's mind as he stared dubiously at her retreating back. The dark-haired teen let out a frustrated noise and started after her again. _The World of Dreams. She had called it something else in another language, but she'd translated. The World of Dreams…_ So he was dreaming, only he was convinced more than ever that this was more than just a dream. That girl that was running away from him now was the key to getting answers. Chasing after her though, was going to get old real quick if she kept this up.

She rounded the corner ahead of him and Chris let out the frustrated sound again. Yeah. This was definitely going to get old. He felt like Alice in Wonderland chasing after that stupid white rabbit. "Whoever or whatever 'Tomboy Onion' is, I'm sure I can handle it! Is that the 'her' that's not letting you leave? Hey!" he growled in growing annoyance. The girl didn't stop running. None of this made any sense. "Ugh! Alwynne!"

The scenery in the hospital's hallway rippled in front of Chris and he staggered to a stop as it once again carried out a metamorphosis before his very eyes. It wasn't the idyllic castle rose garden he had chased the girl through the first time, but the unnerving contrast to the hospital was just as severe. A farm with rolling fenced in hills replaced the miraculously dissolved hospital walls. He expected to see horses or cattle out there grazing, but there were none. Chris glanced down.

He made a face when he saw that not only had the environment changed, but his clothes had too. _Plaid_. A blue and white plaid shirt, a pair of worn in but a bit too tight for his tastes jeans and scuffed up boots now enveloped his frame. _Plaid?! _ He couldn't change it, but not for lack of trying; he was stuck wearing something that looked like it had come out of his father's closet. As much as he hated to admit it, it did fit with the new setting that had molded around them. Chris made a face. _Yeah, I'm dreaming and this just seriously turned into a nightmare._

Under his now booted feet there was a gravel driveway. Towering over him were massive oak trees, lining either side of the drive and stretching towards a big red barn. That was where he saw Alwynne's retreating figure go. The flash of the girl's red-gold curls swung behind her as she entered through the barn doors and out of sight. Knowing there was nothing he could do about his new attire, Chris resigned himself to it and took off after Alwynne again.

He slowed down when he reached the barn doors and cautiously stepped inside. He would have expected the interior space to be darker than the outside, but the unnatural and peculiar light was the same inside as out. Just as it had been omnipresent under the forested trees of the garden and in the hospital room the light just _was_. It was the same that as with that creepy feeling of dozens of eyes continuously watching him. He was getting used to that though. "Hey…" Chris called tentatively to Alwynne when he stepped into the barn.

She was towards the back of the long row of empty stalls, leaning on one of the doors. Alwynne lifted her head to look at him. She was still dressed in the pale blue sweater, jeans, and riding boots that had changed her Renaissance-wear in the hospital. When she saw Chris standing there her mouth opened in surprise and he saw worry fill her frosty eyes. Chris closed the barn door behind him.

It unnerved him a heartbeat later when both of the barn doors were wide open without anyone going near them. Then they were shut again. Just like some of the stall doors were doing, he noticed out of the corner of his eyes. More oddities of this place that he hoped that he could have explained. He just had to convince Alwynne not to run from, or try to kill him like she had when they'd met first. Chris moistened his lips and walked towards her, holding his hands up in a peaceful gesture. "Please don't run away again."

"You followed me. Why?" Alwynne asked, blinking owlishly at him. She really didn't seem so much like the confident, fairytale princess he had initially glimpsed playing the harp any longer. The thought dawned on him that it had just been some sort of character she had been playing and hiding behind. She looked at Chris then darted quick looks around the barn as if thinking of possible routes to escape. "You shouldn't have followed me," she whispered in her faintly accented voice. Irish maybe?

"I followed you because I need answers and because I didn't know what else to do," Chris said, folding his arms over his chest.

Alwynne frowned at him, "You shouldn't have. She could come at any moment. Time passes differently here than in the waking world." She nervously looked around again and turned so that her back was pressed against the stall door she had been leaning over when he first came in.

"The 'she' that you said is keeping you here?" Chris asked, trying not to let the girl's obvious paranoia get to him. "Tomboy Onion?"

The redhead's lips twitched a tad with Chris's humor, but even that didn't ease her fears of those mysterious _she_ that Alwynne was so concerned about. "_Tromlui d'iníon_," Alwynne whispered, accompanied by a shiver. "If she finds you here she'll keep you from leaving too. I don't know how, but she will. She's done it before to others. I don't know how you got here--"

"Neither do I," Chris said, "but if it's just a dream I ought to be able to wake up, right? And you should too."

Alwynne shook her head, "I can't. I told you. But you… you _should_ be able to. I don't know what would be preventing you. As long as she hasn't found you yet you should be able to wake. Or if not wake, you should be able to return to your normal dreams. This place is dangerous. It will be as long as she is able to enter it."

Chris blinked at her and tilted his head to one side, "Wait, my _normal_ dreams? What's the difference?" Okay, so he had sort of figured out that this was more than just a dream. Hearing her put it into words just affirmed his suspicions. It still didn't explain how he had gotten here.

"I don't have time to explain this to you," Alwynne articulated.

Chris ground his teeth in frustration and glared upwards at the barn's rafters. He fixed his green eyes back on Alwynne and said with more patience than he was feeling, "I need to know what's going on if I'm going to help you."

"Help me?" Alwynne asked, staring at him again. She shook her head, "No. Close your eyes, go back to your dreams and wake. I can't protect you from her. She's too strong."

"Quit that!" Chris snapped, hands going to his hips, "I'm not going to leave until you explain and I don't care if _she_ comes before you finish." Great, so the stubborn girl was trying to protect _him_. Well, he had plenty of experience dealing with stubborn people. Not only was he stubborn himself, but coming from the family he came from he'd had lots of practice.

Alwynne had her fists on her hips too now, somewhere between the frightened girl and the self-assured young woman. She must have seen the resolve on Chris's face, because she sank back, dropping to sit on a bale of hay that had appeared out of nowhere. Another appeared right behind Chris, sliding up behind his knees and forcing him to sit down with a soft 'umpf' of surprise.

"Everyone can enter _Domhan'al'taibhream_, but most people only enter it for fractions of a second while they sleep. Some, have an ability to enter this place as they choose, or to pull others in with them and keep them here, like _her_. It exists as a parallel to the waking world, a pale reflection," her words were soft as she tried to explain, "What happens here is real. If a dreamer's chance entrance happens at the wrong moment… like a person dreaming of falling… if they die in a regular dream, nothing happens, if they die _here_…"

Chris rested his elbows on his knees as he listened, feeling the hairs on the back of his neck begin to rise. Eerily this reminded him of a story he had heard his Aunt Phoebe and his Mother talking about that happened to his Aunt Prue when she had still been alive. Now he wished he had paid more attention to their conversation than he had. Not that it would have helped make any more sense of this.

The girl continued, "Most don't even realize they have ever been here or that it even exists. Then there are the _Aisling siúlóir, _those with the ability to enter this place as they choose. They will enter it eventually whether they mean to or not… but there have been so few. It is not a common gift and if untrained this place can be dangerous. _Tromlui d'iníon_ makes the entrance an even greater risk. She claims The World of Dreams as her own, has claimed it as her own for a long time... those that she finds, she usually kills. That's why I think you should go. You should wake. If she finds you here…"

Chris moistened his lips and interrupted, "What about you?"

Alwynne lowered her haunted blue eyes, "Me, she keeps alive. Me, she forces to watch as she punishes those that walk _her_ world without her permission. The last _Aisling siúlóir_, the last Dreamwalker, I ran into was so long ago… but it could have been just a few days, it could have been weeks or possibly years in the waking world… but the last, she…" Alwynne closed her eyes in order to force away the memory of whatever had been done. "I don't know how long I've been here. Time passes so strangely in the Dream."

Chris didn't like the sound of that. His mind was reeling as it processed the information he was being given. He wasn't about to be intimidated into abandoning her. He was convinced now that Alwynne was an innocent that he needed to save. She was a prisoner in The World of Dreams. He wished his father were here, Leo always seemed to know every obscure tidbit about magic, or where to find out more about it. But more than that, Chris wished that Wyatt were here. _Well, Chris, you wanted to prove yourself on your own, now here's your chance_, his mind hissed at him.

"Okay, so… are you trying to say that I've either randomly entered into or been somehow pulled into The World of Dreams," Chris didn't even try to pronounce the Irish words for fear of completely butchering them. She made the words sound so 'pretty' when she said them, "…or I'm somehow a Dreamwalker?"

Alwynne nodded, "Aye, and if _she_ finds you here, you will wish that you weren't."

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The ride back to the Manor in the back of Phoebe's van with his younger cousins had Wyatt grinding his teeth together by the time they pulled up in the drive. Melinda, also in the back seat with him had an identical pained expression. The twins had started up a chorus of "The Song That Never Ends" the moment they had pulled out of the hospital parking lot and Pandora had joined them in singing it. It was still going on. Henry Jr. had his hands clapped over his ears, stuck in between his two sisters in the middle seat.

Wyatt was regretting more than ever not taking his grandfather up on his offer to ride with him. He'd also had the choice of riding with his mother and father in their car, but had let Paige and Henry take those spots.

"_Mom_," Melinda pleaded, "Make them stop! Dad! Do something!"

"Please!" Penny echoed from where she sat with her older sister and Wyatt in the rear seat. The singing continued, unchecked by parental intervention.

"Patti, Parvati, Dora… would you three please put that on mute for a bit?" Phoebe asked gently from the front.

"…_it goes on and on my friend._  
_Some people, started singing it,_  
_Not knowing what it was, _  
_And they'll continue singing it…"_

Wyatt leaned his forehead against the cool glass of the window and desperately tried to block the repetitive singing out. Wasn't he being tortured enough with Chris being in the hospital? He had to endure this added punishment too? Really, Wyatt loved his cousins dearly, all of them. Having such a close knit, large family was wonderful. Most of the time, he loved it. Had he not been as sleep deprived and upset as he already was, he actually would have been singing right along with them.

"Girls, please?" Coop attempted.

Wyatt looked towards the front of the van, if his Aunt Phoebe or Uncle Coop weren't going to try any more than that, he _would_.

"SHUT UP!" he snapped in a loud, commanding voice. The harsh sounding words were out of his mouth before he could stop them.

All three little girls' mouths shut and they turned around in their seats to look at Wyatt in shock. Shocked silence followed. Wyatt's jaw tightened and he leaned back in his seat, arms crossing over his chest so that he could lean his head against the cool window again. Mel and Penny in the backseat with them exchanged looks with one another and scooted over to give Wyatt a little extra space. Silence. Blessed silence accompanied them the rest of the way home.

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"_Oh, my God," Chris complained loudly, covering his ears and looking desperately towards the heavens for someone to rescue him, "Not you too!"_

_Wyatt, followed by Paige's twin daughters, Henry Jr. and Phoebe's youngest daughter, circled the beat up old couch in the attic that Chris was sitting on. "…Forever just because this is the song that doesn't end. Yes, it goes on and on my friend…"_

_Thirteen-year-old Chris flopped over onto his side and grabbed for a pillow to cover his head with. "Someone turn it off!" he pleaded, "Wyyyy…"_

_Penny poked her head into the attic to see what was going on. It was summer and a Saturday, the one day of the week that everyone in the family tried to get together for breakfast, no matter what. Wyatt's mother and Chris always woke up at dawn to fix the food and gradually the rest of the family members appeared to add their contributions. Whether they were in helping set the table, helping by _not_ touching the food - like Wyatt, or in adding cheerful conversation, everyone eventually made it to the table together. It usually ended up with everyone spending almost all day together around the Manor. This particular Saturday had been no different._

"_Some people started singing it, not knowing what it was and they'll continue singing it Forever just because…"_

_Phoebe's middle child laughed and hopped into the room to join the couch circling and singing. Her voice rose to join the volume of Wyatt's, which was impressively loud at the moment. "…This is the song that doesn't end."_

_Chris whimpered before screaming in desperation into the pillow he was using to cover his head. The desperate scream into the pillow suddenly turned into a grunt. "Oof!" he expressed as Wyatt climbed over the back of the couch to land on top of him. Wyatt grabbed the pillow Chris was using to muffle the sound of the obnoxiously loud song. "Get off me! Help! Mom! Somebody!"_

"_Yes it goes on and on my friend," Wyatt and his younger cousins chorused._

"_My ears!" Chris griped, but now Wyatt was holding his hands too, pinning him down, "You weigh a thousand pounds, I can't breathe! You're killing me. Wyatt. Guys, stop, please!" Chris was panting and struggling, then finally he breathed out an exasperated, "Okay, okay! God! I give up…" _

_Wyatt laughed triumphantly and got off of Chris as his younger brother finally cracked and joined them, "Some people started singing it not knowing what it was…"_

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The van pulled up into the driveway at the Manor behind where Piper had just parked. Wyatt's cousins climbed out quickly. The youngest three were looking at him with hurt expressions as they headed towards the large Victorian house. Phoebe and Coop didn't say anything when they got out of the van, except for Phoebe to say, "Wyatt, one of your friends is here."

Wyatt climbed out of the van, while the others finished piling out, and looked towards the beat-up blue truck that was parked on the street in front of the house. A tall, skinny kid with too baggy thrift store clothes and glasses was sitting on the roof of it. When he saw Wyatt the dark-haired boy waved. Wyatt glanced towards his family, who were filing into the house, and then trotted down the drive to meet the boy who was waiting for him.

"I thought it was safer to wait for you here instead of on your porch, in case your Mom got an itchy trigger finger or something," the scrawny and somewhat scruffy fellow said, without getting off the roof of his truck. His legs were dangling down the front windshield so that his feet rest on the hood. "You look like crap."

"So do you," Wyatt said, pulling himself up onto the roof of the truck with him. He was starting to feel extremely guilty for having yelled at his little cousins. They just didn't understand how serious it was and it wasn't their fault. Add to that the new found guilt for having tortured Chris _with_ his cousins using that song in the past, because the drive home had made him realize just how very torturous that song really was. Wyatt scrunched his nose up as he got a good look at his green-eyed friend, whose usually messy mop of brown hair had been cropped into a _very_ short military crew cut. "What happened to your head?"

D.J. Anderson ran a hand over his short hair scowled, "My Dad's new girlfriend happened to it. You know how I was thinking about making a brief appearance at the dance tonight? Totally not happening now. In fact, I may not go to school on Monday either."

Wyatt leaned back on his elbows, but just nodded in response.

D.J. shortly followed in leaning back. He had expected at least a small smile from Wyatt. "He's that bad, huh?"

The blonde teen shrugged and looked up at the clear blue sky above. Wyatt and D.J. had been friends since they were babies. They had known each other what felt like forever. Any friendship had its ups and downs and rocky moments, but even with D.J.'s half-demon background theirs always endured. D.J. was Wyatt's best friend, second only to Chris. They were sort of like the Three Musketeers, as unlikely a trio as they were. It was no surprise to Wyatt that D.J. had showed up, risking Piper's wrath since the eldest Halliwell sister was still angry at him for their last stunt, in order to personally check on Wyatt and Chris.

"I was worried when you didn't call me back last night, but I figured you needed some space."

"Thanks," Wyatt said tiredly.

"How bad is it, really?" D.J. asked.

"They're keeping him in the ICU," Wyatt answered, "He had to have surgery and he hasn't woken up since the ambulance ride to the hospital."

"My offer from my message last night still stands, ya know," D.J. said.

"As much as I would love to go take it out on some demonic parasites, no offense, rather than snapping at my cousins," Wyatt said, being almost as honest with D.J. as he would have been with Chris, "It probably wouldn't be the best idea. I've got zero control over my emotions right now, I'm running on empty, and I have no idea what that might do to my powers…"

D.J. nodded, understanding completely.

There was another truck making its way down the street towards the Halliwell Manor and Wyatt sat up. This one was a much newer, and gleaming, red model. There were two people riding in the cab and one more in the back. D.J. winced when he saw it and slid off of the roof of his truck to reach in through the open driver's side window. Wyatt raised an eyebrow and then cracked an ever so brief smile at the knit cap that his friend pulled down over his head hastily.

"What?" D.J. asked up at Wyatt, who was still on the roof, "I don't want the Friday Night Lights patrol to see my scalping."

Jake Garner's truck pulled to stop on the opposite side of the street and the teenagers hopped out. Wyatt dropped off of the roof of D.J.'s car and gave a short head nod to the trio. Jake, Fred, and Jason returned with their own nods. There was a bit of awkward silence between the group of five teenage boys, before Fred stepped forward and grabbed Wyatt in a bone-crushing hug.

Wyatt was too surprised at the unexpected gesture to do anything but stiffen his arms at his sides as the younger, but much larger boy delivered his embrace. Fred stepped back and rubbed his shiny, bald head. "They benched that guy for the rest of the game. I think Lincoln's coach was worried that our players might have a personal vendetta against him. We just took it out on the rest of the team," Fred said, breaking the silence.

"They decided to do the coronation at the dance tonight, instead of the game, in case you might be able to make it or something," Jason said, jamming his hands uncomfortably into his pockets. Silence fell on the group again. It was clear that none of them really knew what to say.

"We just wanted to stop by and see if there was anything we could do," Fred said, continuing the uncomfortable and forced dialogue.

"The cheerleaders decided to make a get well soon card while we were all over at Tori's last night," Jake said, pulling an envelope out of the inside pocket of his Letterman's jacket.

Wyatt raised an eyebrow when he caught the strong whiff of perfume coming from it as he took it. D.J. bore a similar expression from where he stood behind Wyatt, using the blonde teen as a buffer between himself and Wyatt's fellow jocks.

"Don't ask me what they wrote in it," Jake said, "But I really doubt some of it has a 'G' rating or would be parentally approved."

Wyatt heard a throat clear behind him and turned to see Melinda. She stood hesitantly off to the side, still on the lawn in front of the Manor. There was a distinct blush on her face as soon as Wyatt's friends turned to look at her too, "Wy, your Mom said to tell your friends they're welcome to come in for lunch if they don't want to leave… but that if _you_ don't come in _right_ now and eat something, she'll make you stay here at the house when the rest of us go back." With her message delivered, Melinda gave one last blushing look, mostly directed at Jake before she went back inside.

"We don't want to intrude on your family," Fred said, "as much as I love your mom's cooking. Give her a hug for me and tell your brother to get better. I still need his help in Trig."

"You take care of yourself too, Wyatt," Jake said, clapping Wyatt on the back, "I know your worried about C-squared, but you gotta take care of you too."

"The football's his," Jason said, "as soon as he's better, he can have the QB position back and you won't hear another complaint out of me for the rest of the season. Later."

Wyatt watched his three teammates climb back into Jake's truck and drive off.

"Well, that was awkward. I'd better get going too," D.J. said, "Call me if you want me to come over later. I mean it." After a hug that was far less bone-crushing than the one Fred had given Wyatt, D.J. grabbed the roof of his truck and used it to pull his legs up so he could get in through the open window. Wyatt raised an eyebrow at him and D.J. grinned, "I broke the door, haven't had a chance to get it fixed yet."

"Two words, D.J.: New Car."

"Two words, T.B.: No Money."

"Later," Wyatt said, actually finding his smile again however briefly as he headed up the lawn and then into his house.

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Lunch was as uncomfortably silent as the rest of the car ride had been after Wyatt had snapped at his younger cousins. Not even Paige had made any further attempts at lightening the mood. As frustrating as Piper had found her baby sister's attempts at telling her to relax and that everything was going to be fine, once Paige had actually stopped she missed her efforts to lighten everyone's spirits. When the meal was over, Piper's sisters had helped her clean up while all of their husbands and Victor took the kids to the conservatory to get them out from underfoot. If they talked or played games, Piper didn't know. Wyatt had gone upstairs to his room and shut the door.

When it was time to go back to the hospital, Victor offered to stay at the Manor with the younger grandkids so they didn't have to sit in the Waiting Room. That way everyone could just take the van too, instead of several different vehicles.

"Thanks, Dad," Piper said quietly, hugging him. When she released her father, she turned to go upstairs. Her first stop was her room to get a book from the drawer in her nightstand. The second stop was Wyatt's room. She lifted her hand to knock on the door and stopped when she heard Wyatt's voice from inside.

"…I know there'll be other dances, but I'm still sorry," Piper could hear Wyatt saying. From the pauses between his sentences, she knew he was on the phone talking to someone, "…yeah, I was looking forward to it too… I don't think I've ever seen Jess wear a dress before. Ever. Well, yeah, of course I wanted to see you all dressed up too… I'll tell him for you. You're wonderful, you know? Thanks for being so understanding. Yeah, I'll call you tomorrow to let you know how he is. You too. Bye, Cait."

When she heard him say 'bye', Piper rapped her knuckles against his door, "We're heading back to the hospital."

Wyatt had his door open in a flash, and was passing Piper to go down the stairs.

Piper and Wyatt were again the first two to take their turn going back to see Chris once they had arrived at the hospital. As everyone else settled themselves into the now familiar 'Visitor's Lounge', Piper walked with her oldest son down the hallway to the set of doors marked _Intensive Care Unit_. They had a brief introduction with the new shift of nurses on duty and then Piper stepped into Chris's room.

One of the nurses had gotten an extra blanket for him and had seen that he was tucked in properly. They had also removed the endotrachael tube and had replaced it with a partial-rebreather mask that was supplying him with a steady flow of oxygen. Piper moved one of the two chairs around to Chris's right side and she set her oversized pocketbook on the ground beside it. Before she sat down, she leaned over Chris and touched her hand against his face. "Hey, baby," Piper said, "I brought something for you…"

Wyatt was standing silently on the opposite side of the bed from her, looking down at Chris with the weight of the world on his shoulders. She bent and kissed Chris's cheek, then settled herself into the chair and pulled out the book that she had retrieved from home. Her eyes shone for a moment with the threat of tears that she blinked away, before she could open the cover. She began:

"THE PRINCESS BRIDE  
S. Morgenstern's  
Classic Tale of True Love  
and High Adventure"

Piper turned the page and read again, "Chapter One, The Bride."

"Mom… are you really going to read that to him?"

"I thought this was your favorite book."

Wyatt opened his mouth to adamantly deny his mother's all-knowing claim, and then closed it with a sigh. The blonde teen looked towards the door as though to make sure no one else had heard his mother say that. "If you _ever_ say that in front of someone who is not a member of this family, I swear I will disown you." He looked from Piper to Chris, then covered for himself, "Fine, read it… but only because _Chris_ likes it."

Piper smiled and opened the book back up. She waited until Wyatt had settled himself in the chair by Chris's bed before she began reading again. Wyatt lowered the metal bar on Chris's left side and carefully took his brother's hand in his. Piper knew he had tried to say that he was listening to the story for Chris, but from the bare hint of a smile on his face as she began to read it, she knew it was the same one the book had always brought out before they were too old to argue that it was a 'kid's book'. She had always read it to them when they were sick and she hoped that maybe, just maybe there was some magic in that, which might help Chris recover faster.

"_The year that Buttercup was born, the most beautiful woman in the world was a French scullery maid named Annette. Annette worked in Paris for the Duke and Duchess de Guiche, and it did not escape the Duke's notice that someone extraordinary was polishing the pewter. The Duke's notice did not escape the notice of the Duchess either, who was not very beautiful and not very rich, but plenty smart. The Duchess set about studying Annette and shortly found her adversary's tragic flaw._

_Chocolate._

_Armed now, the Duchess set to work. The Palace de Guiche turned into a candy castle. Everywhere you looked, bonbons. There were piles of chocolate-covered mints in the drawing rooms, baskets of chocolate-covered nougats in the parlors._

_Annette never had a chance. Inside a season, she went from delicate to whopping, and the Duke never glanced in her direction without sad bewilderment clouding his eyes. _

_The year Buttercup turned ten, the most beautiful woman lived in Bengal, the daughter of a successful tea merchant. This girl's name was Aluthra, and her skin was of a dusky perfection unseen in India for eighty years. Aluthra was nineteen the year the pox plague hit Bengal. The girl survived, even if her skin did not._

_When Buttercup was fifteen, Adela Terrel, of Sussex on the Thames, was easily the most beautiful creature. Adela was twenty, and so far did she outdistance the world that it seemed certain she would be the most beautiful for many, many years. But then one day, one of her suitors (she had 104 of them) exclaimed that without question Adela must be the most ideal item yet spawned. Adela, flattered, began to ponder the truth of the statement…"_

Piper continued to read the first chapter of the book to her two sons to the soft soundtrack of hospital machines.

"_Buttercup, of course, at fifteen, knew none of this. And if she had, would have found it totally unfathomable. How could someone care if she were the most beautiful woman in the world or not What difference could it have made if you were only the third most beautiful. Or the sixth. What she liked to do, preferred above all else really, was to ride her horse and taunt the farm boy._

_The horse's name was 'Horse' and it came when she called it, went where she steered it, did what she told it. The farm boy did what she told him too. Actually, he was more a young man now, but he had been a farm boy, when, orphaned, he had come to work for her father, and Buttercup referred to him that way still. 'Farm Boy, fetch me this'; 'Get me that, Farm Boy - quickly, lazy thing, trot now or I'll tell Father.'_

'_As you wish.'_

_That was all he ever answered. 'As you wish.' Fetch that, Farm Boy. 'As you wish.' Dry this, Farm Boy. 'As you wish.' He lived in a hovel out near the animals and, according to Buttercup's mother, he kept it clean. He even read when he had candles…"_

Piper noticed Wyatt's eyelids getting heavy as she continued to read. Eventually she saw them slide over his exhausted eyes and his head dip forward against his chest. She didn't stop her reading to disturb him. He was probably going to stubbornly try to stay awake all night again tonight. He needed his rest. Piper continued to read, turning pages as she verbalized the author's writing. She had gotten to the part where Buttercup spent the night unable to sleep because of a Countess that had come to the farm that had looked at the Farm Boy, and in that time had come to a realization about 'Westley'. She had read Buttercups confession of her love to Westley and of the Farm Boy closing the door in her face. Finally she had gotten to Westley's admission that he loved Buttercup back and that he was going to go away, across the ocean, to seek his fortune so that he would have enough money to marry her. They had kissed.

Piper was just about to get to the part where Buttercup had learned of Westley's death at the hands of the Dread Pirate Roberts when the nurse paused in the doorway. Piper marked her place in the book and set it in her chair. She held up a finger to her lips to indicate Wyatt's sleeping and stepped out to speak to the nurse. All that the nurse wanted to tell her was that the doctor would be by in about an hour to speak to them about Chris.

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Wyatt hadn't stood a chance. His lack of sleep after playing football and then such a long and emotional night, added to the last several emotional hours had caught up with him. He'd tried so hard to keep his eyes open while he held Chris's hand and his mother read the book. _They're not going to kiss are they…_ he'd remembered Chris saying that the first time his mother had read the book to the two of them, _…gross!_ That was the thought that Wyatt dozed off to.

His head dipped forwards and sleep washed over him.

"_So who is_ she_ anyway?"_ Wyatt thought he heard Chris's voice say as he began to drift towards sleep. His voice sounded so clear, like he was right next to Wyatt and there was a tingling of something in the back of Wyatt's mind.

"_She calls herself The Daughter of Nightmares,"_ Wyatt heard a young woman's liltingly accented voice say. Wyatt heard Chris laugh.

"_Nightmares, great. Is that it? Nightmares? You're scared of her because she'll give you nightmares? Nightmares can't kill you…"_

"_They can _here,_ Chris. I told you, if you die here, you die in truth. I know you want to help me, but you can't. What? What is it?"_

"…_Wyatt?"_

Wyatt jerked awake with a start and swallowed hard. He hadn't meant to fall asleep. His mother's soothing voice reading that book and his exhaustion had just won out. Well, he wasn't going to let it happen again. He'd thought for a heartbeat there when he had closed his eyes that he'd heard Chris talking and his brother had called his name. Wyatt gave his little brother's hand a squeeze and then stood up. His mother was just outside the room speaking to one of the nurses.

"I'll be back bro, but I'm gonna let someone else come see you, while I get some coffee," Wyatt promised. With a doleful look at Chris's face, Wyatt left the room. He nodded mutely to his mother and the nurse she was speaking with and walked to the double doors leading into the ICU.

A tall woman in her mid-twenties was walking in. She had raven-black hair and the frostiest blue eyes that Wyatt had ever seen. The woman brushed past Wyatt without so much as a glance at the teen. She hadn't noticed him, but he'd noticed her. Or rather, he had noticed the prickle of the hairs on the back of his neck standing one end when her eyes had passed over him without acknowledging his existence.

Wyatt stood just in front of the doors, watching to see which room she went to. It was the one right next to Chris's. Wyatt wondered just whom it was that she was visiting and why he felt the urge to make his coffee break short so he could get back to Chris's side. His parents had always told him to trust his instincts.

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**Author's Note:** There… since I can't think of anything else to say, why don't you guys click that button down below and _you_ do the talking. As in… write me a review!


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Charmed, or any of its characters… I just wish I did.

**Author's Note**: Here begins Chapter 9… which has a flashback in it that ended up being a lot longer than I had planned originally, but I like how it turned out. Also in this chapter, the moment that some of you have been eagerly waiting for: the appearance of the infamous Daughter of Nightmares. Dun dun dun! I had a little bit of trouble with some parts of this chapter, namely trying to figure out exactly what the doctor should say to Chris's parents… so I think that's the weakest part of the whole thing… it's also the shortest part of the whole thing and (Sorry!) very generic. I may go back eventually and fix it, as in actually write more there. I was just having a very bad case of writers block for that scene and I didn't want it to hold me back from the rest of the story. I hope ya'll can forgive me.

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"Who's Wyatt?" Alwynne asked Chris as she plucked a piece of hay from the bale she was sitting on and twirled it between her fingers. She was looking at Chris with those haunting blue eyes of hers.

"My big brother," Chris explained, standing up. He frowned as he looked around. It was just him and Alwynne, but for a bit there he'd faintly sensed Wyatt. The facts that it was gone again now, just made him realize the gaping absence of that familiar presence all the more. "…For a second there, I could have sworn he was here. Or almost here."

Alwynne shook her head, "I didn't sense anything change."

"It's kind of hard to explain," Chris said. When she looked up at him dubiously he smiled, "Yes, harder than your little explanation about the World of Dreams. He was here though, I know he was."

"Well, if he was, he's not here now," Alwynne said, "And we need to concentrate on waking you up before _she_ gets here."

Chris turned around and set his jaw stubbornly, "No. What we need to concentrate on is how to get _both_ of us out of here. I'm not just going to leave you here. If you think I am, then you're severely mistaken."

Alwynne got up, "She'll _kill_ you. She will kill you here and then you will die and you will never wake up again. Don't you understand?"

"Yeah, yeah, she's going to show up and attack me with nightmares, I get it," the teenaged witchlighter said, resting his hands on her shoulders, "I get it, I do. Thanks for worrying about me, but I get enough of that from my family. And if I'm in the hospital right now, which I'm pretty sure I am even if time does pass strangely here, then they're all plenty worried enough for the both of us about my well being. Now, tell me more about this place and about _her_ so that I know what I'm up against and can come up with a plan to get us out of here."

Alwynne let out an exasperated sigh, "I'm trying to save your life!"

"And _I'm_ trying to save yours," Chris returned.

"She won't kill me," Alwynne said, "If she were going to do that she would have a long time ago."

"No, but she'll keep you locked up here in the World of Dreams so that you can't wake up," Chris told her, "I'm not going to leave an innocent stuck in a prison when there's a chance they can be saved. Now, start talking. How did you make the scenery change and… my clothes?"

Alwynne sighed realizing she was fighting a losing battle with Chris on the point, "I just… think about it."

"I figured that out earlier, but how come I can't change them back?" Chris asked.

"I've had more practice," the girl told him, "Tis' mind over matter and power of thought."

"Power of thought, eh?" Chris raised an eyebrow at her and wrinkling his nose with concentration tried to change his clothes again. It felt like someone - he figured it was Alwynne - was fighting against him changing them. It took an effort but after a second it worked. It happened. His shirt changed to his favorite tee and his jeans became a bit baggier, while his shoes melted back to sneakers. Chris rubbed his temples and opened his eyes to smile triumphantly at Alwynne.

She blinked, tilted her red-gold-haired head at him and looked at him impressed.

"Now will you quit trying to convince me to abandon you?" Chris asked.

"Care to try something bigger?" she asked, gesturing to the barn, "Just think about where you want to be…"

Chris shrugged and drew a breath, thinking. _The Manor_. He was thinking about that when he saw the color drain from Alwynne's face and a shadow fall across the pair of them. _Shadow…?_ Chris thought, _but… _he hadn't seen a shadow since he'd been here. The hairs on the back of his neck were rising and he got the sense that someone was looking at him. It was different from the feeling of being watched that he'd felt the whole time. Very different. Alwynne backpedaled a few steps.

"Revisiting old memories, Alwynne?" a woman's voice asked from behind Chris, "…and I see you've made a new friend."

Chris swallowed hard and turned to look over his shoulder.

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Melinda Prudence Halliwell was born April 20, 2007, the eldest daughter of Phoebe Halliwell and her Cupid husband Coop. Being a little more than two years younger than Chris and a little over four years younger than Wyatt, she was almost never included in anything they did unless the whole family was involved. It wasn't that she wasn't close to them. She loved both of her cousins dearly and they had hung out together nearly every Saturday since she could remember.

Chris though, she was closest too since they were closer to the same age and spent so much time joking together about how ridiculously perfect Wyatt always had to be. Actually Mel loved all of her cousins dearly, which she guessed included her Aunt Paige's children even if they were younger than her. Melinda's two little sisters, she supposed that she loved too, but some times they could be _so_ annoying. Like their constant questions because they didn't get the picture of what was going on with Chris being in the hospital. She was glad that her grandfather had decided to keep them and Aunt Paige's kids at the Manor. They weren't old enough to go back into the ICU to visit Chris anyway, but she was.

So, here she sat in the Visitor's Lounge with her mother, father, Aunt Paige, Uncle Henry, and Uncle Leo while her other Aunt and Wyatt were back with Chris. She had her book in front of her again, staring blankly at the pages until the words began to blur together. That was what she had been spending most of her time doing. She had no idea what the book was even about, she hadn't read a single word of it yet, which wasn't a good thing since she had a report due on it for her English class by Monday. The Cay by Theodore Taylor and Melinda hadn't read one single word of it.

Her mother and Aunt Paige got up to step out to the rest room or maybe to go get some more coffee. Mel turned another page in her book to keep up appearances of actually reading it. Coop cleared his throat next to her and when she looked up at him he had an eyebrow raised. She wasn't fooling anybody, least of all her father.

Melinda looked away from her Dad when she saw who was standing in the doorway. Wyatt nodded in her direction and Melinda closed her book, without marking the page and handed it to her Dad. It wasn't like she needed to remember where she was in the silly thing anyway. Leo started to get up too and then sat back down when he saw her getting up.

Melinda blinked and started to sit back down, "It's okay, Uncle Leo, you can go back and see him…" Chris was the man's son after all.

"It's okay, Mel," Leo said, sitting back down to continue his conversation with Henry.

Melinda looked at him uncertainly, and then walked towards the door. She squeezed Wyatt's arm when she walked past and turned down the hallway to walk into the ICU, preparing herself for seeing Chris again.

When Melinda walked through the doors of the ICU, her Aunt Piper was finishing a conversation with one of the nurses. Mel walked towards Chris's room, glancing into the one next door as she passed it. No one had been in there earlier today, but there was someone visiting the girl laying in the room now. _A. O'Bruadair_. Not someone that Melinda knew. The raven-haired woman sitting at the girl's bedside turned to look at Melinda standing in the doorway and the young teen sucked in a breath. Embarrassed for being caught staring, she hurried into Chris's room.

Piper rejoined her a minute later and took her seat. "I hope you don't mind, Mel, but I've been reading Chris his favorite book--"

"That's fine Aunt Piper," Melinda reassured her, sitting down in the other chair and curling her legs under her while she looked at her older cousin laying in his hospital bed. She pursed her lips together, looking on at him sadly and wondered if this was how the woman next door was feeling about her family member laying in Intensive Care.

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An hour later, just as the nurse had said, Dr. Hathaway stopped by to speak with Piper and Leo. The news wasn't exactly what they had been hoping to hear. They had been hoping for good news that the doctor expected Chris to wake at any time. Instead they had been informed that their son may not wake from his coma according to their experience with other patients with similar GCS ratings. Piper had returned to the waiting room to break the news to her other son and to the rest of their family, but she wasn't going to give up. No matter how much the news had shattered her spirit.

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The rest of Saturday went by in a blur of everyone continuing to take turns going back to see Chris, armed now with the knowledge that there was a chance that he wouldn't wake up from his coma. Wyatt felt ill. He should have tried to heal Chris when he had the opportunity and forget about worrying about the consequences of exposure. If the Cleaners came and erased him for saving his brother, then at least Chris would be okay.

Wyatt went straight up to his room when they got back to the Manor without even saying goodbye to his aunts, uncles, cousins, or even his grandfather. After having heard from his mother and father that Chris might not wake up he hadn't wanted to talk to anyone. His jaw tightened and he closed the door to his room with his telekinesis hard enough to rattle the trophies and pictures on his wall. This was his fault. Wyatt knew it was a completely irrational thought. It could have happened to any one really. A sports accident could have happened to anyone on the team. Only this wasn't really an accident, that _asshole_ from the other team had done this to Chris. Wyatt's jaw tightened.

"UGH!" he growled, balling his fists up at his sides in frustration. Why couldn't the doctors do anything?! _Crash!_ Wyatt jumped when the picture frames on his wall shattered. Wyatt blinked and lifted his hands up to look at them. _Great, just great…_

"Wyatt?!" his mother's worried voice called from downstairs. He could hear footsteps pounding up towards him.

"It's fine!" he shouted, "I'll clean it up!" He ran his hands through his hair in frustration and set about picking up the mess that he'd made. At least it gave him something to do.

About two hours and one trashcan's worth of effort, Wyatt flopped onto his bed to stare at his ceiling and think about his brother.

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_A little over a year ago…_

_Wyatt pushed open the door to the room that he was sharing with his little brother. This was the last week that they were going to be sharing a room. They had finally broken their parents down just last week into letting them get separate rooms and he and Chris had helped their Dad clean out the room next door to move Chris into. The moving was going to happen Saturday. Bright and early if Wyatt could help it. Chris hadn't been quite as thrilled about the idea, but after tonight, Wyatt imagined his little brother would be all for it._

_Chris was in the room and he was awake. Wyatt could sense him in there as well as the turmoil of emotions going through the younger teen. Mostly betrayal, anger, and annoyance. Wyatt had a pretty good suspicion that they were directed at him. Wyatt checked his watch, ten 'til ten. Piper stuck her head out of her bedroom door to look towards him, being sure that both of her sons had returned by their curfew. He winced once she had ducked back out of sight. That meant Chris hadn't said anything to her about what happened. Wyatt didn't know if he should be appreciative or not of Chris's decision for silence._

_Stepping into their room, sixteen-year-old Wyatt shrugged himself out of his letterman's jacket and flipped on the light. Chris was already in his bed and had taken the time to stack up his boxes to build a wall in the middle of the room to separate his bed from Wyatt's. A pile of soaking wet clothes lay creating a puddle in the center of Wyatt's bed, causing the older witch to make a face. Chris's clothes from the party. "I deserved that," he mumbled, kicking his shoes off into a corner._

_Chris didn't say a word, he was rolled onto his side, under his covers doing his level best to pretend to be sleeping. Wyatt sighed and crossed over to the dresser to pull out a pair of shorts and a t-shirt. He pulled his sweater off over his head and dropped that over to the side, "I know you're not asleep."_

_Still, Wyatt's younger brother stayed quiet. Wyatt ground his teeth in frustration and turned to grab the cold, soggy sweater and jeans that lay on his bed. He dropped them with a heavy thud into the laundry basket. He pulled the drenched cover from his bed next, followed be the sheets and dumped them on the floor creating a small amount of messy chaos in his half of the room. "Are you just going to ignore me? It was a joke Chris. You didn't have to take it so personally."_

_The silent treatment continued while Wyatt changed into his pajamas and eyed the large wet spot in the middle of his bed, left from the clothes that had been sitting there. Wyatt sighed and lay down close to the edge of his bed, on his side so that he was facing the wall of boxes Chris had constructed. "I've got to say, you've achieved a new level of maturity tonight, Chris. A wall and the silent treatment. What do you want me to say?"_

_Wyatt heard Chris shift in his bed, but couldn't see him for the boxes in the way. _

"_Will you just say _something_ to me?" Wyatt asked. The lights in the room turned off and Wyatt knew Chris had used his telekinesis to do it. Wyatt sighed and rolled onto his back, looking up at the glowing stars on the ceiling that Chris had glued up there when they had been in grade school. "Fine. You don't want to talk to me, I'll just talk to myself."_

_Wyatt raised his voice, spouting off the names of constellations that were laid out on their ceiling as they came to mind, "Big Dipper. Little Dipper. Andromeda. Capricornus. Canis Major. Canis Minor. Lynx. Hydra. Cassiopeia. Draco. Gemini. Leo. Leo Minor. Orion. Cancer. Pegasus. Aries. Phoenix--"_

"_You're a puerile asshole," Chris's voice interrupted Wyatt's loud recitation of constellations._

_Wyatt rolled back onto his side and looked at the wall of boxes again separating him from his brother, "He speaks."_

"_You could have stood up for me."_

"_I wasn't even in the room Chris!"_

"_No, you were too busy making out with Madelyne Birdsong in the kitchen while your buddies set me up and dumped ice cold water on me. All you saw was your pinheaded friends laughing and making a joke out of superstar Wyatt's little geeky freshman brother. Don't tell me you didn't know anything about it Wyatt and don't tell me you didn't laugh your head off after I left."_

"_I didn't!"_

"_All you've been talking about since this school year started was how much of a pest I am and how annoying it is that I'm always around. Well, you'll get your wish. I'll leave you and your juvenile playmates alone from now on," Chris said in a hurt tone, "The joke was on me. You and your friends got me good. Bravo to you."_

_Wyatt sighed, "That's not what I want Chris. I don't want you to leave me alone, I just want some space. I didn't tell them to do that to you. I didn't even know they were planning anything."_

"_Oh, please, spare me. Go back to naming constellations if you're just going to lie to me. That was the only reason I got invited to that inane waste of a social gathering and you know it."_

_  
"No, you got invited because you're on the J.V. football team," Wyatt protested._

_Wyatt heard Chris snort and could hear him rolling over again. The older witch ground his teeth together and sat up in his bed. "Then tell me why I was the only freshmen there if it wasn't a premeditated effort to completely humiliate me?"_

"_I don't know, maybe their parents wouldn't let them go. It _is_ a school night," Wyatt said, frowning into the darkness. Chris made another 'hmpf' sound. "Can we take this wall of boxes down so that I can see you while you're accusing me of conspiracy?"_

_One of the boxes from the top (thankfully an empty one) sailed at Wyatt and smacked him in the head before he swatted it away. "Be my guest," Chris grumbled as the rest of them toppled over. Only the first had been directed at Wyatt. _

"_I didn't know they were going to do that Chris," Wyatt said honestly when he saw Chris leaning on one elbow looking at him. "After you stormed out, I told Jason and the guys never to do anything like that again. And that if they touched a hair on your head they'd be answering to me. They thought it was just a harmless prank, but trust me. They won't mess with you again. I made sure of that."_

_Chris looked at Wyatt horrified, "What'd you do that for? I don't need your protection Wyatt!"_

"_You just said you wanted me to stick up for you! Make up your mind!"_

"_You just made it a billion times worse," Chris groaned out in exasperation. The younger teen rolled over on his side with his back to Wyatt, this time covering his head with a pillow. "Ugh! You'll never understand."_

"_I'm trying to understand!"_

"_Goodnight Wyatt."_

_Wyatt frowned, got out of his bed and tripped over boxes to get into Chris's, sitting on top of his little brother, "No. You explain to me what I'm missing."_

"_Get off me. It's fine Wyatt," Chris's voice muffled into the pillow, "You've only ruined my entire life for the rest of my high school existence that's all. Chris Halliwell, the boy who needs his big brother to fight his battles for him. Go to bed and leave me to suffer my impending mortification in peace."_

_Wyatt scratched his head, still missing the point, "How did me telling them to lay off you ruin your high school existence."_

_Chris let out a harassed sigh and moved the pillow, glaring at Wyatt in the dark, "_Because_, genius. From now on, the only reason that your friends aren't going to mess with me is because _you_ told them not to. I just wanted you to back me up, support me. Tell them they're jerks and follow me out. You know, be my wingman? Not take over the whole dogfight! I can fight my own battles, Wy, I just need you to be my reinforcements." Finished speaking his peace, Chris rolled back over._

"_Oh," Wyatt said softly. He got up and made his way back to his bed and stared up at the stars. A few seconds into the silence later, Wyatt said quietly, "I'm sorry, bro."_

"_Goodnight Wy."_

"_Chris…"_

_Chris sighed, "What is it now?"_

"_What does puerile mean?"_

_Chris laughed, "Look it up in the morning."_

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Wyatt closed his eyes for just a second, blocking out the sight of those stars. He felt his throat getting tight. He was wondering if he was ever going to hear his brother's sarcastic comments again. When he opened his eyes, he had to blink away the moisture shining there and burdened with the thoughts and fears the Chris might not wake up again the silent tears began leaking down the side of Wyatt's face. He stared up at the ceiling and the glowing stars that were now blurry; it was going to be another long night without sleep. But, Wyatt figured, Chris was getting enough sleep for the both of them.

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**Author's Note:** I don't have any more words. My brain is now officially fried for the night. The only thing I think I can manage at this point is this: If you read, please review. Even if it's just to let me know who you are so that you're not just a number in my 'hits' tally.


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Charmed, or any of its characters… I just wish I did.

**Author's Note**: I can't believe I'm already on Chapter Ten of this story! My goodness… time flies when you're having fun, right? Another thing… holy cow! I broke the one-hundred review mark on this story! Thanks so much guys! Heehee… several people asked what 'puerile' means. Puerile is an adjective meaning "childishly silly and trivial" - so, Chris was calling Wy a childish asshole. Sorry for leaving the last chapter with such a cliffhanger and having you guys wondering what was going to happen to Chris… well, here you go: the showdown with the Daughter of Nightmares begins.

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Chris looked over his shoulder to find himself face to face with a woman who took his breath away almost as much as Alwynne had when he'd first laid eyes on her playing her harp, only for different reasons. She was as tall as the fifteen-year-old witchlighter was, five-foot-seven, and clothed in a silvery white gown that hugged her twenty-something body. A belt made of silver moons and stars hung low around her waist in ornamental decoration. She didn't look like she should be in the barn, but everything about her radiated that she belonged here. No, that was wrong, it was the opposite: this place belonged to _her_.

Dark, straight raven hair fell down her back. Her skin was like pale ivory, making her face seem like that of a porcelain sculpture with strong cheekbones. Her eyes were the same shade of blue as Alwynne's, only there was no innocence in hers. There was only a bottomless pool of frigid, icy knowledge that made her seem far older than her face belied. Her full lips spread into a grim smile.

Chris had no way of explaining the illogical fear that caused his heart to pound faster in his chest. She hadn't even done anything to warrant it. A handful of cryptic-seeming words that had too much of the ring of cliché villain for him to take her seriously. Only, Chris did take her seriously. Very seriously.

He swallowed again, finding that his mouth had gone unexplainably dry. Alwynne was behind him, no doubt frozen by her own fears of the woman that stood before them. Chris stood his ground, not taking the sensible step back from her that he probably should have after what Alwynne had told him about her. He never had been sensible about things like this, not always doing what sane people would do when faced with something they _ought_ to be afraid of - neurotic - his family called it. Even the unseen eyes that had been following him since he had 'woken up' here had fled.

The woman, _Daughter of Nightmares_, shook her head at him and made a dismissive gesture with her hand before walking past him to pluck a hoof pick from a bucket of grooming supplies on the barn floor. Chris couldn't take his eyes off of her even to blink. Walking didn't quite describe her movements. It was move like floating. She examined the hoof pick without sparing the two teenagers a look as though they were not of her concern. Her pristinely white garment contrasted severely with the image he'd expected of her.

Seeming to read his thoughts, the woman looked up at him. She dropped the hoof pick back into the bucket and stood, dusting her hands off. "You were expecting black robes? Alwynne, dear. Where are you manners? You didn't introduce us."

Chris broke his line of sight away from the raven-haired woman to look behind him at Alwynne. She had pressed herself back against a wall and had her lower lip caught between her teeth looking at The Daughter of Nightmares with a mixture of dread, fear, and familiarity.

"Come now. Do not be rude," the woman in white said, folding her hands placidly in front of herself. Chris looked towards her again and this time he did take a step back. The whole barn was growing darker and beginning to fill with shadows, only _she_ seemed to radiate pristine white light. Chris stepped back and put himself protectively between the woman and his innocent.

"Found yourself another hero?" the woman asked. She wasn't coming any closer to the two of them. She was merely watching them both with her ice-chip eyes. Something about that look sent shivers up and down his spine.

Alwynne clutched onto one of Chris's hands, giving it a desperate tug. The golden-haired girl didn't say a word, but the urgency in her gesture said more than enough. He needed to get them out of here. Chris willed himself home, trying to orb, but found the shimmering sparkle of lights didn't form. _Not good_, he thought, backing up and causing Alwynne to back up further.

"Does this hero have a name Alwynne?" the woman inquired with just the faintest hint of amusement. The shadows were darkening, obscuring the doorway out of the barn. The woman stood between them and it anyway, but the shadows made the idea of trying to get past her all the more intimidating. "Does he know why you're hiding here in the barn and backing away from me?"

"Leave her alone," Chris said.

The white-clad woman raised one perfectly sculpted black eyebrow, "What has she said to you to inspire such chivalry? Since she won't tell me your name, why don't you share it with me? I would hate not to be introduced to someone so brave and so very naïve. I like to know the names of Alwynne's would-be champions."

Chris narrowed his green eyes and lifted his chin, finding some of his inner fire once more as he looked across the barn at the intimidating woman. "I don't have to tell you anything about me, but you should know that you're messing with the wrong person."

_Why can't I orb? _ Chris thought frantically. Alwynne still had his hand and hers was practically trembling inside his now. He needed to calm down. He knew he did. _It's mind over matter._ He moistened his lips. Orbing was a fear response. He ought to have been able to orb to the moon if he had wanted to, but maybe it just didn't work here. This wasn't the real world this was the World of Dreams. A sinking dread started to fill Chris as the dark-haired woman began a slow, gliding approach towards them. What if his powers didn't work here…?

"He can't get you out of here Alwynne, I won't allow it to happen," the woman said, still gliding closer, "I won't let it. You want to use him as a pawn against me as you used the others? Do you really want to try? His blood will be on your hands. If he is wise, then he will take my generous offer to leave. Right. Now. I will only offer him the opportunity once because I admire his imprudent valor."

"If you think that I'm going to leave her here with you then you've got another thing coming to you," Chris said.

From the inky black shadows a pair of ravens emerged and swooped, descending upon Alwynne. The girl shrieked and released Chris's hand to lift hers up in an attempt to fend off the birds. The woman in white had stopped, standing in the middle of the barn, with her hands clasped in front of her.

"Alwynne!" Chris shouted, turning to try to help Alwynne get away from the birds that seemed hell bent on terrorizing her.

She was on the floor now cowering away from the ravens and screaming, "Chris!" she cried out desperately.

Chris turned to glare at the white-clad woman who was watching the whole scene with a dispassionate look. She shook her head sadly. "I did warn you that you should leave while my offer stood..." she paused and smiled, "…Chris."

The world around Chris rippled and even Alwynne vanished from his view. He panicked for a moment before a hazy sensation drifted over him like a fog. He blinked and jogged up the sidewalk towards the Manor. What had he been thinking? He'd just been standing there on the sidewalk, looking at the Manor in a stupor while the school bus pulled away. The thirtee--no, fourteen-year-old today--shifted his backpack to one shoulder and walked up the stairs to push open the front door.

"Hey, Mom, I'm home!" he called out, grinning at the balloons and streamers practically littering the house. His Aunt Paige had to have been partially responsible for that, it was way too over to top even by his mother's standards. "Gee, it looks like someone's having a birthday here or something."

Chris stepped inside, dropped his backpack next to the door and closed it behind him. Then he paused and a crease appeared in his forehead as a creepy case of déjà vu washed over him. What was going on? It was like this had happened before or something. He frowned noticing how deathly silent the house was. Home had always felt so safe for him and now there was this quietly growing sense of fear.

"Mom? Dad?" he called out again. Maybe his Dad wasn't home from Magic School yet, but his Mom ought to be there at least, shouldn't she? Chris walked further into his home feeling his trepidation growing. "Mom?"

The cheerful balloons and birthday streamers mocked the cold knot in the pit of his stomach. Wyatt wasn't home yet, wouldn't be home yet for several hours since he had some sort of student government meeting at the High School, but that didn't have anything to do with his parents not answering him. Chris stepped into the dining room and sucked in a sharp breath.

"Dad!" he yelled, seeing his father motionless on the floor with a growing pool of blood around him. Chris rushed in and dropped to his father's side. He lifted his face towards the ceiling and shouted at the top of his lungs, "PAIGE! Aunt Paige!!" Not his Dad, not his Dad… Chris was shaking as he checked for his father's pulse. Why wasn't his Aunt Paige answering? She always came immediately when he called. "Wyatt!!" he shouted next. Chris's chest felt tight. No, no, no… this wasn't happening…

Chris jumped up to his feet and ran towards the kitchen, panic stricken. His mom! "Mom!" Chris screamed out, hoping she would answer him. His heart felt like it was going to burst in his chest. This was the worst possible thing that he could have ever imagined. Chris slid into the kitchen and his whole world fell even further apart than it already had.

The kitchen was like a battleground. There were scorch marks on the walls; decorations torn from the ceiling lay scattered on the ground. There were two piles of ash on the floor right by the door and a third next to the island. Perfectly untouched, Chris's birthday cake sat on the island in festive opposition to the chaos. And there was blood… there was a lot of blood… Chris's eyes searched wildly around the room for his mother and then he spotted her.

When he did, he couldn't move at first. The fourteen-year-old stood paralyzed in the doorway with his blood running cold through his veins. "…mommy…" he breathed hoarsely. She wasn't moving, laying in a broken angle, pale. Still as death. "MOM!" the scream tore from Chris's lungs. "PAIGE! WYATT! PLEASE! I NEED YOU!" he shouted desperately. He rushed towards his mother and with trembling hands checked her pulse to. There, like his father's, but weak and fading. Chris licked his lips and held his hands over her wound. _Heal. Heal!_ He commanded his trembling and terrified hands.

This wasn't happening, it couldn't be happening! Not again! _Not again?_ The echoing thought sent shivers down his spine for a heartbeat until he snapped himself out of it. He had to save his parents, there had to be some way to save them. "WYATT!! Come on!" He didn't have time to wait. His parents didn't have time. Chris swallowed hard and orbed himself to the attic in front of the Book. There had to be _something_. He held his hands over it, flipping the pages frantically with telekinesis and finding nothing. "WYATT!! AUNT PAIGE!" he screamed again to no response. No jingling of orbs. Nothing. They were going to die. He was so useless! His parents were going to die…

The air in front of the podium shimmered and a trio of demons stood in front of Chris. The young witchlighter's eyes widened at seeing them. He wasn't thinking rationally. He could have flung the three of them against a wall. Done _something_. But he was terrified for his parents. The three demons all smiled evilly at the boy and Chris's blood turned to ice. He did the first thing that came to mind, he orbed to his mother's side again. "Mom," he whimpered, terrified tears rolling down his cheeks, "…please…"

The demons followed him, shimmering in front of him and his mother and standing in the growing pool of Piper Halliwell's blood. One of them held an athame in its hands, still stained with his parent's blood. Chris stared at it with eyes that were more blue than green, full of fear. He orbed himself and his mother to the dining room next to his father and laid a hand on his dad too. The three of them disappeared in a swirl of orbs again. He'd tried to orb them out of the house, but it was like there was something holding him there. Chris's heart pounded in his chest as instead he orbed them into the room he shared with Wyatt. _What was happening? Why couldn't his Aunt or his brother hear his calls?_

"Hang on, Mom, Dad, please hang o--ugh!" Chris gasped as he felt something strike against his back and it felt like ice slide between his ribs. His lips parted and he stared down at the front end of the long metal blade stained with his blood in a stupor. It slid back out and he fell forward on top of his parents. With the last of his draining strength, Chris orbed his parents to the basement to get them as far from the demons as he could.

"…Wyatt!" he croaked out desperately as he rocked back from his parents, thinking the cry would be in vain. Color was draining from his face, which was already pale from looking at his dying parents. Wyatt miraculously appeared in a swirl of orbs, looking frantic. "…save them Wyatt…" Chris choked out, trying to gasp in air through a punctured lung. He slumped to the ground as Wyatt immediately went to their parents, watching helplessly.

The golden glow sprung to Wyatt's hands as he held them over his father, and Leo gasped as life returned to him. Wyatt then moved to his mother, but the glow didn't leap to life immediately and Chris shivered. His mom couldn't die. She couldn't… he felt so cold… he couldn't lose his mom… The glow came to Wyatt's hands finally and after several long fearful moments, Piper gasped back to life too. "Chris…" Wyatt breathed, moving over his brother. The edges of Chris's vision were blackening, his parents were safe, they were going to be okay. Wyatt held his hands over his brother and healed him in time to see the three demons shimmer into the basement. Chris gasped, coughing as he sat up, then shrank back in fear.

Piper and Wyatt lifted their hands, but the demons disappeared before either of them could do anything.

Chris gasped, jerking upright from where he had apparently fallen on the barn floor in the throes on the nightmare. His hand went to his chest and he shivered when he felt that his shirt was clinging to him with dark sticky liquid around a hole in the shirt. There was no blemish on his skin though. But the effect was more than enough to cause his breath to hitch. He back peddled on the ground away from the woman in white. Chris's heart was thundering now as he stared at her in horror. Alwynne was on the ground sobbing behind him, curled into a ball in the fetal position. _I can't orb… I can't orb… who was I kidding, I can't do this I… pull yourself together! Do something! What if my powers don't work?_ He had to listen to the inner-dialogue over the pounding of his heart.

The shadows that had formed behind her were practically black now, creeping along the ceiling, the walls like serpentine clouds of ebony. Chris swallowed hard again and squared his shoulders. There was only one way to find out if his powers worked here or not. Powers were tied to emotions, well, Chris had emotions in spades right that second. He swept his left hand across his body at the woman, attempting to channel his telekinesis.

The look of absolute shock that flooded her face as she went flying to the side to smack into one of the barn's beams told Chris that she had not seen it coming. He wanted to smile, but he didn't want to get too cocky. That and he was still too scared to even consider it. Instead he tugged on Alwynne's hand and ran forward towards the deepening shadows to run past the still recovering woman. _Home, think about home. I just want to get home._ As Chris and Alwynne stepped into the shadows he felt a rippling sensation take hold of them both.

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Piper stood at the sink in her kitchen Sunday afternoon, attempting to wash the dishes from lunch. They had all gone to the hospital again that morning until the regular afternoon break in visiting hours. Now her sisters and their families had all returned to their own homes for a little while, but had promised to return to the hospital that evening to check on Chris. Her father had gone to Phoebe's, but only after she had told him that she wanted some time alone with Leo and Wyatt.

Wyatt hadn't slept again last night. Piper knew it instinctively from the sluggish way her oldest boy moved and his red rimmed and tired eyes. She and Leo had tried to sit down with him and speak with him after the house was quiet and it was just the three of them. Wyatt had ended up asking if he could just go outside and get some air. She had let him. Now he was out on the front porch, brooding in a way that reminded her of someone else.

The eldest Halliwell caught her lip between her teeth and choked back a sob. She let the dish in her hand slip back into the soapy water and rested her hands on the sink to hang her head forward. She hadn't read a word of the book this morning, because Wyatt had wanted so badly to talk to Chris in hopes that doing so would help him wake up. He had finally run out of steam and he had gotten up to leave the room before he started crying all over again. Piper had only been able to watch him with the tragic knowledge that she didn't know a single thing to say to him to make it better. She didn't know that it _would_ be better.

"I'm a failure as a mother," Piper whispered, her voice thick with emotion.

She felt a pair of strong hands snake around her waste and suddenly Leo's chin was resting on her shoulder, his cheek nuzzling against her. "Honey, don't say that. You're not a failure."

"Yes, I am," Piper sobbed softly, absorbing the comfort of her husband, "my baby is… is… in a coma… and Wyatt… oh, Wyatt… I can't even help him deal with it, because _I_ can't deal with it. I'm a horrible mother. He needs me and I can't even support him because I'm having a break down. I can't do this Leo. I can't do this."

Leo's arms tightened supportively around her waist and Piper felt the warmth and moisture of her husband's tears dropping against her neck. "You're not a horrible mother Piper, whatever else, don't think that you're a horrible mother… we all just need to support each other. We will get through this."

"It's all my fault," the woman whispered, salty tears. She felt Leo draw back from her slightly in surprise and Piper trembled.

"Piper, you are not single handedly responsible for every horrible thing that happens," Leo breathed.

"I _am_ responsible, Leo," Piper wept, "If I… if I hadn't let him play… if I hadn't… he…"

She turned around and leaned against her husband, desperately trying to draw strength from him, as she had always been able to in times of need. His strong arms wrapped with such tenderness around her and his head rested atop hers. "Shh…"

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_Four months ago._

"_Mom!" Chris's voice called as the door to the Manor was thrust open._

"_She's in the kitchen," Leo said, taking in the sight of his dark-haired youngest son. Chris was covered head to toe in mud and grinning so broadly that his excitement couldn't help but be contagious. The boy quickly went running towards the kitchen, tracking mud behind him._

_Leo shook his head and followed the cleat tracks. He was curious about the cause for this excitement that he bet had something to do with this year's football tryouts. When Leo rounded the corner to see the kitchen, Chris had already grabbed his mother in a muddy hug that caused Piper to squeak in surprise._

"_Hey psycho! You could have waited until I finished parking the car before you jumped out," Wyatt's voice called as he entered the house. He stepped up behind his father a moment later. Wyatt was muddy and smiling too, but had at least had the sense to remove his shoes at the door. He had them in one hand, his football pads in the other._

"_What is going on?" Piper demanded in wild-eyed bewilderment. _

_Chris set his mother down, but was far to excited to actually answer her question._

_Lucky for him, Wyatt answered, rolling his eyes and smiling at the same time, "The coaches want to move him up to Varsity next year."_

_As Wyatt made the announcement, Chris produced a folded piece of paper that was only slightly smudged with mud and held it up triumphantly._

"_I thought you had to be at least a junior or a senior to play Varsity," Piper said, confused. She wasn't the only one who was confused, Leo arched his eyebrows as well, waiting for further elaboration._

_Chris unfolded his prize and held it towards his mother. "That," he announced proudly, grinning like a fool, "is what this permission slip is for! You sign that and I'll be the youngest starting quarterback to play for Baker High in twenty years."_

_Leo laughed, smiling proudly and clapped Chris on the shoulder. He looked towards Wyatt, "And what do you think about this?"_

"_I think it's great. He's certainly good enough. They wouldn't have asked if he wasn't. I say sign it," the older boy said with a grin._

_Piper wrinkled her nose, and her forehead creased with worry, "I don't know. Most of the boys are at two or three years older and a lot bigger and--"_

"_Mom…" Chris complained, staring at her like he couldn't believe she was considering denying him this opportunity to shine. Not even Wyatt had been offered the chance from the coaches to move up to Varsity a year early. The younger Halliwell brother looked at his mother with pleading emerald eyes and an expression that said if she didn't sign the paper he would never forgive her._

_Piper let out an exasperated sigh, "Oh, all right, hand me a--" suddenly there was a pen falling right into her hand before she could finish. Leo looked at Wyatt who was precariously close to laughing, "--pen." The woman shook her head and signed the form, handing it back to Chris._

"_Yes!" the fifteen-year-old witchlighter shouted. He grabbed his mother in another muddy hug, kissing her cheek, "Thanks mom, you're the greatest! Can I use your phone Wy? Thanks!" Chris shouted without waiting for his brother to answer. Chris went tearing out of the kitchen and Leo was amazed that there had been a level of excitement beyond that with which Chris had first entered the Manor. "I can't wait to tell Caspian and Hayden!"_

_That was when Piper noticed the muddy tracks that her youngest had left through the entire house. Her lips thinned and her hands flew to her hips, "Christopher Perry Halliwell! Do not touch that phone until you clean up this mess!"_

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"I should never have signed that permission slip, Leo," Piper's tearful voice was muffled against Leo's chest. Her hands clutched at his back as she let out the soft sobs. "He should have been playing with boys his own age… he… I should have told him no. Told him to wait another year… oh, Leo, it's all my fault…"

Leo took a hand to cup the back of her head, running his fingers through her hair, "Piper, you know if you had told him 'no', it would have broken his heart. You saw how excited he was about playing on the same team as Wyatt. So excited that he tracked mud through the house and into your kitchen?"

Piper's head moved up and down against Leo's chest, but tears were still running down her face. Leo held his wife tighter. He didn't want to say the thing that he was using to comfort himself - that this must have happened for a reason. There was a reason for everything. That was what Leo was using to hold himself together. There had to be a greater purpose for this. He couldn't think that this would happen if there weren't. He didn't want to lose his son again.

Leo also didn't want his wife to think this was her fault either. "Piper," he said, gently lifting her chin so that he could look in her chocolate brown eyes, "You know neither one of us could have denied him that opportunity… and look how amazing he's played. Every game he came home excited and talking our ears off. Would you have traded seeing the smile on his face?"

"Yes," Piper's emotion-cracked voice said with false firmness, "To keep him from getting hurt? _Yes_, Leo."

Leo looked at his wife skeptically, "Even if it meant him hating you and being completely miserable?"

Piper's lower lip quivered and more moisture glistened in her eyes as she looked up at Leo. He knew she wanted to say that she would gladly take him hating her and being miserable, even if it was a lie, but she couldn't lie to him. With a shaky breath, Piper leaned against him again and very softly said, "No… I wanted him to be happy…"

She wanted him to be happy, but she wanted with every fiber of her being for him to be safe too. Leo held his wife as she broke into uncontrollable sobs against his chest.

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Wyatt slid two dollars to the guy in the hospital cafeteria for the cup of coffee he'd gotten and walked away from the counter. He was so tired. Two nights without sleep was fighting to catch up with him and he was fighting to not let his exhaustion win out. He'd lost count of how many cups of coffee he had ingested. He walked past a mirror and winced at his appearance. His blonde hair was unkempt, his cheeks red and puffy and his eyes red rimmed while dark, haggard circles were showing underneath them. D.J. had been right when he'd seen him yesterday. Wyatt looked like crap. He felt like it too.

He turned to walk out of the cafeteria, taking a sip of his coffee and sucked in a breath in pain as he bumped right into someone and the hot liquid spilled down the front of his shirt. "Ow! Geeze, watch it!" Wyatt snapped, harshly.

The blonde witch blinked when he lifted his eyes from the dark stain on the front of his light blue shirt. He wasn't sure who he had expected to see standing there in front of him. Some stranger. Some Neanderthal jerk who didn't have the sense to look where they were going. One of the useless doctors around this stupid place who claimed there was nothing more they could do to help his brother. He didn't care that it had probably been mostly _his_ fault, since he'd been the one too tired and too caught up in his emotional thoughts to pay attention.

The sandy-haired girl standing in front of him winced, "I am _so_ sorry." She reached hastily into her purse and pulled out a wad of tissues, which she proceeded to use to blot at the stain, "Are you okay? I'm sorry, really I am. Did it burn you? My word, I'm such a horrible klutz."

Wyatt's urge to continue angrily lashing out at the reason he was now wearing his coffee instead of drinking it left. "Andrea?" he asked with an apologetic frown. He stopped her frantic hands from blotting the napkins against him by grabbing her wrist.

Andrea Payton went to the same school as he and Chris. She was in Wyatt's grade. They had gone to school together since she moved to San Francisco from Boston when they were in middle school. But until today she had never said two words to Wyatt before. Wyatt's friends all thought she was stuck up. Pretty, but stuck up. One of those untouchable types. She kept to herself. No one in Wyatt's social circles knew much of anything about her. And here she was in the hospital with tear-stained cheeks and apologizing to Wyatt for ruining his shirt and spilling his coffee.

She blinked up at him with red-rimmed, brown eyes. She pulled back from him, her cheeks flushing and holding coffee-soaked tissues in her hands. "Wyatt," Andrea said, recognizing him.

"You know my name?" Wyatt asked.

Andrea gave him a watery smile, "Everyone at school knows your name. You're the Student Body President… What're you doing here?"

"My little brother got hurt at the football game Friday night," Wyatt said, feeling the emotional turmoil rise up again at giving voice of it to another person. He didn't want to pry, but she looked almost as upset as he was, "You?"

"My Dad," she said, before quickly turning away and failing to elaborate.

Wyatt felt rather awkward about it and just quietly offered, "…sorry."

She looked back at him, rapidly blinking away tears, "I'm sorry about your shirt and your coffee… I'll get you another one."

"Don't worry about it," Wyatt told her, "I've only got a little bit of blood in my coffee stream. I probably really didn't need to dilute it any further. Too much caffeine isn't good for you anyway."

Andrea's lips curved upwards ever so slightly and she nodded to him. She quietly offered, "I'm sorry to hear about Chris. I hope he's going to be okay…"

Wyatt tightened his jaw for a moment and then cleared his throat so that he could actually speak without his voice breaking, "Yeah. Me too. I should get back... See you."

"See you," Andrea returned, moving towards the cafeteria's line.

Wyatt shook his head as he walked out of the cafeteria, muttering under his breath at himself, "A little bit of blood in your coffee stream?" He groaned and ran a hand through his hair. He should just leave the attempts at sarcasm to his brother. That was horrible. If Chris had been there, he probably would have agreed.

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Piper turned another page in the book so that she could continue reading. Wyatt was back in his seat on the opposite side of the bed, dutifully holding his brother's hand. He had returned from his coffee break with a large stain on the front of his shirt that he had only explained to Piper had happened because he wasn't paying attention. That really worried her. If he was too tired not to avoid running into people and spilling coffee on himself, what would happen if a demon tried to attack. She didn't say that to him though, it would only make him upset and cause him to be even more stubborn about it.

He could barely keep his eyes open and the worried mother could see it. At this rate, he was going to wind up in the hospital too. She blew out a breath and continued from the book. It was one of Chris's (and Wyatt's) favorite scenes. Where the Man in Black had his sword fight with Inigo Montoya.

"'_I have my breath back now,' the man in black said from the rock. 'Thank you for allowing me my rest.'_

'_We'd best get on with it then,' Inigo replied._

_The man in black stood._

'_You seem a decent fellow,' Inigo said. 'I hate to kill you.'_

'_You seem a decent fellow,' answered the man in black. 'I hate to die.'_

'_But one of us must,' Inigo said. '_Begin._'_

_And so saying he took the six-fingered sword._

_And put it into his left hand._

_He had begun all his duels left-handed lately. It was good practice for him, and although he was the only living wizard in the world with his regular hand, the right, still, he was more than worthy with his left. Perhaps thirty men alive were his equal with his left. Perhaps as many as fifty; perhaps as few as ten._

_The man in black was also left-handed and that warmed Inigo; it made things fairer. His weakness against the other man's strength. All to the good._

_They touched swords, and the man in black immediately began the Agrippa defense, which Inigo felt was sound, considering the rocky terrain, for the Agrippa kept the feet stationary at first, and made the chances of slipping minimal. Naturally, he countered with Capo Ferro which surprised the man in black, but he defended well, quickly shifting out of Agrippa and taking the attack himself, using the principles of Thibault._

_Inigo had to smile. No one had taken the attack against him in so long and it was thrilling! He let the man in black advance, let him build up his courage, retreating gracefully between some trees, letting his Bonetti defense keep him safe from harm._

_Then his legs flicked and he was behind the nearest tree, and the man in black had not expected it and was slow reacting. Inigo flashed immediately out from the tree, attacking himself now, and the man in black retreated, stumbled, got his balance, continued moving away._

Wyatt was looking from his brother to the beeping monitor that showed the younger boy's vital signs while Piper read. She followed his gaze and paused her reading momentarily. Chris's pulse rate had started to speed up and she looked worriedly towards him, with much the same worried look that Wyatt had. The dark-haired teen's pulse continued to race faster, causing the beeps coming from the monitor to come more rapidly.

Wyatt looked towards his mother, a quiver of fear in his voice, "…mom?"

Piper didn't know. It scared her that she didn't know what was happening or could be causing her son's pulse to skyrocket out of control like that. One of the nurses stepped into the room in response to the change in Chris's vitals. Wyatt didn't want to leave Chris's side, but the nurse motioned him away, as she leaned over the younger teen to check him over. The nurse was checking to see if there was some misreading in the machines by checking Chris's pulse herself and Piper didn't like the worried frown that the woman wore when she did that.

"What's going on?" Piper asked with a finger tucked in the book; marking the page she'd been on. She watched in worry as the nurse reached up to adjust Chris's IV. As the nurse was reaching to increase it, Chris's pulse began to drop back to normal on its own. The nurse drew her hand back and stepped back.

"I'm sure everything is fine Ms. Halliwell," the nurse said, "I'll speak with the doctor about it."

"Could it mean he's waking up?" Wyatt asked. He had moved over next to his mother while the nurse was checking Chris, but now that she was backing up Wyatt was moving back towards his spot.

"Why did his pulse begin to race like that?" Piper asked the nurse.

The nurse frowned, "I actually don't have an answer for you, I'm afraid. But it's dropping back to normal now. It may have just been a dream he was having, or a response to your voices. I'll mention it to the doctor, but I wouldn't be worried about it. If you need anything, I'll be right outside."

Piper and Wyatt watched the nurse notate something on Chris's chart and then she stepped out of the room. Wyatt sank back into his chair and took Chris's hand back into his. Piper could see more worry in her eldest son's tired blue eyes.

"…she didn't answer my question…" Wyatt mumbled, sitting back down.

Piper moistened her lips and then weakly smiled down at the pages of the book. Maybe it was just the book and he was hearing her. When they had been little and she had read this part, even when Chris was sick he would sit up on the edge of the bed grinning feverishly. Well, if it was working, she wasn't going to stop.

She continued reading the sword fight, and once Wyatt had calmed down from the momentary leap of worry-mingled-hope that had been on his face he exhaustedly rested his arms on the side of Chris's bed and lay his head on them. He was still holding Chris's hand. Piper could see Wyatt's eyelids getting heavy again when she looked up between paragraphs.

"_The death moment was at hand now. Again and again Inigo thrust forward, and again and again the man in black managed to ward off the attacks, but each time it was harder, and the strength in Inigo's wrists was endless and he only thrust more fiercely and soon the man in black grew weak. 'You cannot tell it,' he said then, 'because I wear a cape and mask. But I am smiling now.'_

'_Why?'_

'_Because I'm not left-handed either,' said the man in black._

_And he too switched hands, and now the battle was finally joined._"

Piper stopped her reading again when she heard the soft sounds coming from her exhausted eldest child. He was asleep, with his head leaned on Chris's hospital bed. She smiled sadly at him.

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Chris panted as he looked around them. The Manor attic. It had worked! And the Daughter of Nightmares was no where to be seen. He released Alwynne's hand and raced towards the stand where the Book of Shadows should have been.

"Where are we?" Alwynne asked, looking around them with wide eyes.

"My home. Safest place I know. More specifically the attic of my home…" Chris explained. His heart sank when he looked at the podium. The Book wasn't there. He grabbed the stand and stared at the empty space. "…it's not here…"

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**Author's Note:** Heehee! Another chapter finished. You know the drill. Write me a review and tell me what you think!


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer**: Nope. Still don't own them. Drat! And here I was hoping that I might wake up this morning and Charmed would belong to me. Since it still doesn't, I'm using these characters without permission… but ya know, I'm not making any money off this. I'm just trying to make my muse happy.

**Author's Note**: I love getting the positive feedback I've been getting on this and the constructive bits of information that have been so very helpful. I went back and tweaked the scene where Paige and Phoebe figure out that Chris has been hurt - that's back in Chapter Four - and have gone back to catch a few grammar mistakes that I've noticed upon re-reading. Thanks so much to my loyal readers that have stuck with me and have posted reviews for every chapter. Yes, that even goes for you folks that just put "great part!" because it lets me know that you're there. I know this story has gotten a lot of hits, but to that handful of you that have been reviewing. Thank you! To those of you that haven't been reviewing… well, since I don't know who you are or what you're thinking of my story… I sincerely hope that you're enjoying it! Drop me a line! Please! You'll make me a happy author and keep me doing my regular updates.

Just like the update that you're about to read. Without further adieu, here is Chapter 11 of A Handful of Stones. I hope you like it, and I hope it was worth the wait.

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Chris held onto the podium that his family's Book of Shadows should have been resting on. "It's not here," Chris repeated. He didn't want to let go of the podium, because the teenager knew that if he did, his hands would be shaking visibly. He had expected the Book to be there, now that it wasn't he was having a moment of uncertainty over what to do. The vivid image of his parents lying in pools of their own blood attempted to resurface in his mind and he closed his eyes trying to block it out. Closing his eyes was a mistake. It caused the image of those three pale-faced demons holding the athame with his parent's blood to play on the backs of his eyelids. How could she have known about that? How?

"Chris?" Alwynne's lilting voice broke into the boy's thoughts and he opened his blue-green eyes to look at her. She was standing in the middle of the attic with her arms wrapped around herself, looking at him with those soulful blue eyes. How her eyes could be the same shade as _hers_ and be so dynamically different, Chris didn't know. Alwynne's were looking at him now with the first sign of hope that he had seen her have yet, "What's not there?"

"My family's Book of Shadows…" he said softly. He pried his fingers from their death grip on the podium, crossed the attic and sank into the ratty old couch. _His mother's blood tracked across the kitchen floor._ Chris shuddered.

Alwynne tilted her head to the side watching him and then crossed over to sit down next to him. Before Chris knew it, she was touching his blood stained shirt and examining him, "I've never seen anyone fight back against her before. Not like that. Not successfully."

Chris drew away from her, wrapping his arms around his middle and ignoring the fact that his shirt still felt sticky and damp with blood. He knew he could have changed it, but the thought to do so didn't enter his mind. "Yeah, great, that was real successful. I think I probably only succeeded in pissing her off."

Alwynne drew her legs up to her chest and rested her chin on her knees, "You're a witch, aren't you? Your family has a Book of Shadows, you must be. And that's the reason you wanted to stay and help me when I told you that you should just go and forget about me. It's how you were able to fight back against her… how you learned how to manipulate the Dream so quickly…" She looked at him from under a swath of, now tangled from her encounter with the ravens, red-gold hair, "and I'm sorry for doubting you when you first came."

Chris blinked at her, "Trust me, you don't need to apologize for that. If she's kept you locked up here experiencing anything like…" the teenager took a hitching breath, that familiar self-doubt beginning to edge in, "…yes, I'm a witch. Just not a very useful one."

"You got us away from her," Alwynne said.

"How long will that last?" Chris asked.

Alwynne lifted her shoulders, "I don't know."

Chris put his hands into his face and sighed. He needed to think, come up with a plan of action. He was good at that… he was usually good at that, but having to relive that day had brought up those helpless feelings of insecurity again. Of feeling like a useless fourteen year old witch. "I was really hoping that the Book would be here. That there might be a spell, a potion, something to fight back against her and something to help us get out of here, but it's not there…" _Think, Chris. Think… she could be coming right now… _he wished Wyatt were here…

A familiar presence tickled in the back of Chris's mind and he jumped off the couch, startling Alwynne with the suddenness. _Wyatt!_ If Wyatt was here… before Chris could finish the thought his brother appeared right in the center of the attic and Chris's jaw dropped when he saw him.

Wyatt was dressed completely in black, had a sword held poised in his hand, a cape flapping around his shoulders, and a mask covering the upper half of his face. Alwynne let out a squeak as she saw him and moved behind Chris. Chris stared at his brother's ridiculous get up and even as shaken as he currently was, couldn't help but let out a snorting laugh. "Let me guess bro, you were dreaming about battling Prince Humperdinck?"

Wyatt turned sharply towards the sound of laughter and then gaped at the sight of his younger brother standing in front of him. Mocking him. For a moment the fog of dreaming still shone in Wyatt's eyes then a blinking recognition of the fact that he could _sense_ his little brother. Wyatt's 'costume' vanished, replaced by the young man's more normal preppy attire, though the colors of the shirts shifted frequently. The elder Halliwell brother dropped the sword and moved over to grab Chris into a tight hug, "Chris!"

"Wyatt, you're crushing me you overgrown ox!"

"I thought I was dreaming for a second, but it _is_ you," he pulled back, only to crush his little brother against his chest again. He hadn't been sure he would have this opportunity again and here he was with Chris standing in front of him, up, walking, talking. Wyatt didn't want to let him go. Chris returned the hug and then swatted at him.

"Wy, I can't breathe!" Chris protested, "You are seriously unhinged."

"I never thought I would be so happy to hear your sarcastic voice," the oldest witch said happily. Wyatt was grinning and a shine of moisture glinted in his blue eyes as he did pull back to get a good look at his brother. He ruffled Chris's mop of dark hair and cupped a hand on the side of Chris's face, looking at him with teary eyes. Chris balked, pulling back from his brother's grasp in confusion.

"What's the matter with you?" Chris asked, "Have you lost your marbles? You're freaking me out."

"I'm just happy to see you again," Wyatt said, paling slightly at the sight of the bloody hole in Chris's shirt. His smile faded and he put a hand over the crimson stain, intending to heal the wound that wasn't there, but Chris swatted his hand away and shook his head. Wyatt frowned, "How?"

"It's fine. No time to explain…" Chris said, harshly trying to keep the horrible memories at bay.

Wyatt looked uncertain, sensing the mood and seeing the seriousness on his brother's face. The older witch wiped at his eyes with the backs of his hands, feeling a touch embarrassed at how relieved he really felt. "Who's she?" Wyatt asked looking at the gorgeous young woman hiding behind his baby brother.

"Wy, this is Alwynne… Alwynne, this emotional nutcase is my big brother Wyatt. Wy, we need your help," Chris said, keeping the introductions short and giving Wyatt a very short Cliff's Notes version of the World of Dreams.

"Wait, is magic keeping you in a coma?" Wyatt asked suddenly.

"Coma? I… I'm in a… Wyatt, we need to focus here! We may not have much time! I need you to wake up and go to the Book. The Daughter of Nightmares, I… let's just say it wasn't a pleasant introduction that we had." Chris shivered back thoughts of the worst day of his life as they threatened to flash all over again. It still woke him up every now and then in the middle of the night in a cold sweat and ever since that day, he hated birthdays. His own, his cousins, it didn't matter. The sight of balloons and streamers just sent chills down Chris's spine. But he had to stay focused, there was no telling how long Wyatt had here and he'd prefer his brother get out of here so that he could help them. Chris might not have access to the book here, but Wyatt could get to it in the Waking World "What did you call her Alwynne? In case it's listed in the Book under that."

"_Tromlui d'iníon_. But... her real name is Lillith…"

"Right, go to the Book and look that up Wyatt. Get a spell; make a potion, whatever… never mind how you're going to get a potion to me from the Waking World to here. I haven't solved that problem yet… can you do that?"

"…I…what? Wait, you want me to leave you here to battle some woman who can bring your worst nightmares into reality?"

"Yes, Wyatt, that's what I'm asking you to do. I can't wake up. You just told me yourself that I'm in a coma. Even if I could, I'm not going to leave Alwynne here against _her_ alone… I think I made her mad. I don't want her taking it out on an innocent."

"Chris! You can't be serious!"

"I AM serious! Now wake your lazy ass up and do this for me!"

The room started darkening and Alwynne grabbed onto Chris, "…she found us…"

"Wyatt, get out of here," Chris said.

Wyatt looked torn. He really didn't want to leave his little brother, much less leave him to fight some evil by himself when he was so obviously (at least to Wyatt) afraid. Wyatt sighed and then giving Chris a fierce hug, he closed his eyes and vanished from the World of Dreams. Just as he vanished, the door to the attic was thrust open and inky shadows began to seep into the room. Chris protectively put himself in front of Alwynne again.

"A witch," the woman's voice said from the rapidly deepening shadows in the attic, but Chris couldn't see her or tell where the words were coming from, "That was an unexpected surprise…"

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Wyatt woke up with a gasp, jerking himself upright. He nearly fell out of the chair he was sitting in. On the opposite side of Chris's bed his Aunt Phoebe yelped in surprise at her nephew. Wyatt blinked, having expected his mother to be sitting there, then realizing she must have left him alone to let him sleep. _Sleep_. He had fallen asleep and he had communicated with Chris in some strange Dream Realm. Wyatt looked up at the clock on the wall. _Three hours? I was asleep for three hours?_ He'd felt like he had only been asleep for ten, maybe twenty minutes at the most.

Wyatt bolted to his feet, letting go of his little brother's hand and looking at Chris's face. _Don't worry little brother. I'll find a way to help you…_ he thought.

Phoebe looked at Wyatt, "Wyatt, sweetie, is everything okay?"

Wyatt didn't answer her, he just grabbed his jacket from the back of the chair and left Chris's room hastily. Three hours had passed while he had been sleeping. He had fallen asleep to the sound of his mother's voice reading, and had been dreaming, and then he had found himself in that Dream Realm with his brother. His brother! Chris. Chris up and walking around and talking to him and making fun of him for having a hokey dream. Wyatt pushed open the doors to get out of the ICU.

The blonde witch walked past the waiting room where the rest of his family remained and waved a hand vaguely to motion that someone else could go back with Chris now. Wyatt had a mission now. Magic was keeping his little brother in a coma. Magic. Something that Wyatt could do something about. If he wasn't worried to death about Chris, he would have been elated at the fact that this was something that he could actually help with. Sure doing this wouldn't heal his little brother's physical injuries… but… it was something.

Wyatt pushed the rest room door open and walked inside. He had to get back to the house and to the book. His little brother needed him. The Twice Blessed Witch quickly checked under all the stalls, saw one set of feet under one of the doors and frowned. He'd have to wait until whomever that was left before he could orb out. So, instead, he went to the sink and turned on the water.

A splash of cold water on his face was refreshing. He still had dark circles under his eyes, but those three hours of sleep had done wonders for Wyatt. It wasn't the sleep itself that had energized him though. It was getting back in contact with his little brother after he had been so afraid that he wouldn't be able to do that ever again.

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"Leo, would you go check on him?" Piper asked when she saw her eldest son walk past the waiting room in a hurry to get somewhere. She was worried about him. He had been so exhausted he hadn't even heard her leave, and he hadn't woken up when first his father and then his Aunt Phoebe took the second spot visiting Chris. Now he was up and moving past the door with such purpose in his step that she couldn't shake her concern.

Leo Wyatt stood up, "Of course, honey." He was worried about his first-born son too. Getting up the ex-Whitelighter walked out into the hallway to follow Wyatt.

The blonde-haired boy walked into the bathroom and Leo paused, wondering if that was all there was to the rush. He waited outside for just a moment until another man came out, then frowning, walked in after Wyatt just to make sure he wasn't ill or something. Lack of sleep could do that to a person. Leo opened his mouth to say something then closed it when he saw Wyatt checking underneath the stall doors.

When Wyatt turned around and saw his father he jumped about a foot off the ground.

"What is going on Buddy?" Leo asked.

"I've got to go back to the house. I talked to Chris, he needs help…"

"Wyatt, you were sleeping, you had a dream about talking to your brother because you were worried about him," Leo rationalized, "Why don't you come back to the waiting room with me?"

"No Dad. I _talked_ to him. It was _him_, not a dream. I have to get to the Book of Shadows. He's in trouble and trapped in a… you know what, I don't have time for this. My brother needs me." He left in a swirl of orbs.

Leo stood there staring at the spot that his eldest son had been standing in. "Wyatt!" With a frustrated sigh that he couldn't follow after his son, Leo went back to the waiting room to break the news to Piper. They were going to have to do something about Wyatt. He wasn't taking this well at all.

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Piper Halliwell and Leo Wyatt walked into the Manor several hours later and were worried about how deathly quiet the house was. Piper would have thought Wyatt may have come home and gone to bed under other circumstances. With his stubborn refusal to sleep since his brother's accident, though, the eldest Charmed Sister knew better. She had wanted to send Paige to the Manor to check on Wyatt immediately, but Phoebe had talked her out of it. Now Piper was regretting listening to her empathic middle sibling.

She didn't think Wyatt would do any harm to himself, at least, she hoped he wouldn't. He would however call that half-demon friend of his to go off and do something stupid. That was why the unnatural silence of the Manor worried Piper so much. Then there was the worry that in the state Wyatt was in, he might be easy pickings for an attack from any demon in the underworld that sought to take advantage of his current vulnerability. She left Leo standing in the doorway, leaving the man to have to follow behind her as she moved into their home. Her husband had said something about Wyatt thinking he had spoken to Chris and that he had to go home to check the Book of Shadows.

Piper started towards the stairs. As she got to the third step a very loud and house-shaking BOOM! sounded from the upper level of the Manor. Piper broke into a run up the rest of the stairs with Leo hot on her heals as a second foundation rattling explosion went off from the attic above. KABOOM!

Piper practically threw the attic door off of its hinges when she got to it. Her hands were raised, ready to send whatever demon was wrecking her house to kingdom come. Instead she found Wyatt flat on his back, having smashed into the table and chairs waving smoke away. There were scorch marks along the walls and the attic was in ruins. Not from demons though. From the now overturned cauldron of smoking red gel that was eating into the floor.

"Oh. My. God."

Wyatt coughed and sat up painfully, his face smudged with soot, "Too much powdered toadstool…" It was like he hadn't even noticed his parents come in.

"Wyatt Matthew Halliwell, what in heaven's name are you doing?" Piper asked, aghast.

"What does it look like I'm doing?" he asked, pushing himself up and brushing pieces of splintered furniture off of himself. His parents continued to stand in the doorway looking at the destruction he had single handedly managed to cause to the attic. He ignored them, picked up the steaming pot with telekinesis, brought it back over close to him and righted it, while he crossed to pick up the Book of Shadows again.

Piper glared at him, "It looks like you're destroying the house, young man."

Wyatt made a noncommittal sound, grabbing potion ingredients again to start from scratch. He threw in some willow bark, two leaves of arrowroot, three drops of almond oil… Wyatt's forehead was creased with concentration. Piper started across the attic towards him, chocolate eyes filled with concern. "…eucalyptus seed, dragon's blood…"

Piper grabbed Wyatt's hand before he could put in the powdered toadstool again and shook her head at him. The seventeen-year-old's jaw tightened, "Mom, let me finish this."

Piper pulled him back away from the cauldron and gently took the potion ingredient from his hand. "No, Wyatt. You're going to hurt yourself. Or blow up the Manor. Possibly both at this rate. That is quite enough."

Wyatt angrily jerked his hand out of his mother's grip and glared across towards his Dad, "Tell her! Did you tell her? Mom, I talked to Chris. I _talked_ to him! He needs help! He needs me to make a vanquishing potion and get him a spell so that he can fight the Daughter of Nightmares!"

"Son, you were dreaming," Leo said gently as he moved to join his wife and child, gently resting a hand upon Wyatt's arm.

Wyatt let out a cry of frustration and the lights above exploded, sending the room into darkness. The only light coming in was that from the hallway beyond the open door. He winced and rubbed his hands over his tired eyes. Piper and Leo exchanged worried glances. "You aren't listening to me!"

"I think you should go to bed, Wyatt," Piper said, resting a hand on her son's back, "You're exhausted and you have school in the morning…"

Wyatt turned to stare with his mouth hanging open at his mother. She couldn't be serious! School?! "I can't believe you! I'm not going, you cannot possibly expect me to go to school after this! I… Chris needs me! He's in danger! He's in some kind of Dream Realm trying to protect an innocent and magic is keeping him there! He's--"

"That is ENOUGH, Wyatt!" Piper snapped, silencing him, "I _know_ that you want to be able to do something for your brother, but making up imaginary Dream Realms and demons that are keeping him there is not the way to go about it. I am not going to discuss this any more. You are going to go to bed and you are going to go to school tomorrow and then you can go to the hospital and see your brother again. But you are going to stop this nonsense right now."

Leo didn't say anything, but he was a silent supporter of his wife.

"MOM!" Wyatt exclaimed angrily, "He's in a coma because of magic!"

Piper pointed her finger towards the door, her face stormy. "Wyatt Matthew Halliwell go to your room and go to _bed._ Magic is not responsible for this as much as you might be wishing it was so that you could do something about it. Quit this before you hurt yourself. I cannot handle both of my sons being in the hospital. Have I made myself clear?"

Wyatt's eyes narrowed and he turned and stormed out of the attic, "Crystal."

A few seconds later Piper and Leo both heard the door to Wyatt's room slam shut. The worried mother lifted her hands to her temples and blew out a breath, squeezing her eyes closed to block out the tears. She had just lost her temper with her son and had yelled at him for trying to do something that he thought would be constructive and helpful to his brother. Leo gave her a gentle hug before he started picking up the ruins of the attic.

"He doesn't have to go to school tomorrow," Piper whispered softly as she wrapped her arms around herself, looking at the door he'd just stormed out of, "I don't know what made me say that. He's so upset, it would be horrible of me to make him go to school and suffer through that with Chris in the hospital. I should go talk to him and apologize… He probably hates me."

"Let him cool off Piper," Leo said, turning the couch right side up again. He looked at his wife, "Wyatt doesn't hate you."

"He needed me to be supportive and I just pulled the rug out from under him Leo, what kind of mother does that?"

"One who is exhausted, stressed, and worried about both of her children," Leo said, walking over to her, "Come on, let's take the advice you gave to Wyatt and get some sleep. We can finish cleaning this mess up in the morning."

As the couple left the room, they didn't see the page that Wyatt had the Book of Shadows turned to that would have given some proof to his words. An entry about '_Lillith - Daughter of Nightmares' _and what looked like freshly written ink on the opposite page in Prue's handwriting: _Domhan'al'taibhream - The World of Dreams_.

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"_A witch. That was an unexpected surprise."_

The chilling voice reverberated in Chris's ears as the shadows crept further into the room. He swallowed hard. _Hurry Wy. Don't let me down, please._ Wyatt had never let him down before. He really hoped his brother would be able to find something in the Book. "Stay behind me," Chris said to Alwynne, trying to sound braver than he felt at that moment.

Alwynne was holding onto his hand, looking around at the encroaching darkness. The room felt smaller, but it was probably only because the all encompassing light of the Dreamworld was being swallowed whole by Lillith's darkness.

"I applaud you Alwynne. You've finally found someone who is a worthy opponent," the woman's voice whispered from everywhere and nowhere, "Breaking this one will actually be enjoyable."

Disembodied laughter filled the room, chilling enough to raise the hairs on the back of Chris's neck. He wished the woman would show herself. He couldn't decide if hearing her and not being able to see her was more intimidating that laying eyes upon the white-clad woman.

"_Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday dear Christopher…"_

Chris ran forward, tugging Alwynne's hand and dragging the girl behind him. They needed to get out of the attic. Get somewhere else. He had no idea how long they could possibly run away from her, but he hoped it would be long enough for Wyatt to get him some ammunition to use. Hearing that song sung by Lillith's voice in sickeningly honeyed tones had the boy's heart racing again. He had to protect Alwynne though. He _would_ protect her.

When he stepped through the attic door, hoping to get some other momentary escape for himself and Alwynne, everything rippled. Chris staggered forward finding himself in the front foyer of the Manor, still holding Alwynne's hand. The soft humming tune of 'Happy Birthday' continued chillingly. Chris's breath hitched and his nostrils flared as his eyes widened in fear. Steamers, balloons, the Manor exactly as it had been the day he'd come home and found his parents dying and had very nearly died himself.

Alwynne let go of his hand and moved up next to him in confusion, "What's the matter?"

Chris couldn't answer her, he felt ill, he wanted to back up into a corner and curl into a ball right then. Some hero he was. A few streamers, a 'Happy Birthday' banner, a bunch of balloons and he was a wreck. The day had already been replayed for him once. He wasn't sure if he could handle going through it again. The dark-haired witch's breaths began to hyperventilate and he backed up until his back rested against the door. "…no… please…"

"….Chris?" Alwynne turned to look at him, her lilting voice faltering with fear. She didn't understand. Couldn't understand what was waiting for them. What those birthday decorations symbolized. Her blue eyes moved from Chris to look back into the house beyond and she reached for his hand, "Chris?"

Chris shook his head, trying to snap himself out of it. It was near impossible, his heart was thundering away. He closed his eyes, swallowing back the fear, _just don't go in the kitchen or the dining room. This has already happened, Mom and Dad are fine… Wy got there… everything turned out okay…_ He had to keep himself together, otherwise he wasn't going to be any good at protecting Alwynne.

He took her hand and started pulling her towards the living room, trying fiercely to ignore the decorations. So many of them had been torn. Balloons popped. His green eyes were nearly completely blue, his jaw quivering despite his best efforts to keep it from doing so.

"_Happy Birthday, dear Christopher… Happy Birthday to you._"

"Chris… what is this…?" Alwynne whispered in a quavering voice.

"The worst day of my life," Chris breathed. He took her into the living room and was met with something that was just as horrible as seeing his parents lying in pools of their own blood.

"_Wyatt!"_ Chris felt the scream ripping from his throat. He nearly fell over when he spotted him. The whole room felt like it was tilting and spinning and Chris had to catch himself on the doorframe. He felt like he couldn't breathe. _No. No, no, no, no, no…_ the word kept repeating in his head. As though, if he said it enough to himself it wouldn't be true. Alwynne gasped, but Chris didn't hear her. He didn't hear anything beyond the deafening thunder of his heart. Couldn't move.

Wyatt wasn't moving. There was not even the faintest rise and fall of the blonde witch's chest. He lay on his side, his expression slack, and his complexion chalky white from blood loss. The crimson liquid had spread across the carpet around the Twice Blessed Witch, had stained his clothes in a circle that centered over his heart. Wyatt was dead.

His best friend in the entire world was dead and all Chris could do was stand there in the doorway and stare, frozen at the scene in front of him. "…w…w…." Chris couldn't say his brother's name again, not knowing that he wasn't going to get an answer back. He couldn't sense his brother. He couldn't sense anything. But he could see Wyatt's lifeless body laying there right in front of him. Chris's heart was pounding so hard against his ribs it was making the boy dizzy.

Alwynne rested a hand on his arm and he shook her off. There was no rational thought left to be had. Chris staggered forwards, breaking his paralysis and moved as if through quicksand towards his brother. It had to be some mistake. It _had_ to be. It didn't happen this way… it…

Chris sank to his knees, not caring that his brother's blood was now soaking into his jeans from where he knelt in it. _No. Not Wyatt._ Chris blinked back tears, trying to breathe. He was afraid to touch Wyatt. The boy closed his eyes, begging that when he opened them this would all be gone. When he opened them it wasn't. Wyatt was still there. _Wyatt's body_, Chris amended. His hands were trembling when he felt for the pulse that he knew he wouldn't find.

Alwynne couldn't move, didn't know what she could have done if she had stepped forward to join Chris, but her hands covered her mouth in absolute horror now. Tears were running down her cheeks, but they were nothing compared to what Chris was going through in that moment. The boy didn't even recognize the anguished cry that left his lips as he doubled over, folding himself over Wyatt and clinging to him.

"_I own this place boy,"_ the voice that was as smooth as silk and chilling as nails on a chalkboard whispered into the air, _"Did you think I wouldn't know he was here too? I know everything that happens in my domain."_ She went back to humming 'Happy Birthday' from here hidden vantage point.

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**Author's Note:** I know... that was evil. I know... but what else could make Chris nightmare about his parent's death even worse? Write me a review. Encourage me to continue the story. And let me know just how wretchedly evil you think I am for doing that. ;)


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer:** You know, nothing has changed since the first chapter was written. I still don't own Charmed or the Halliwell brothers. It's so very sad.

**Author's Note:** I'm actually getting very close to the end of this story. Another chapter or two, I think, and I'll be all done. I hope that you've enjoyed it. I really do. I've put a lot of work into this (and my other stories too) as I think Jennifer (_strikermac_) knows! We've stayed up all night tossing ideas back and forth on numerous occasions now. I'm glad to have met someone as crazy about TCS as I am. ;) I'm feeling so incredibly neurotic. Oh, hey! Write me a review when you're finished reading this chapter… I know I'm completely behind in responding back to folks, but I will get back to you! I will! Don't let that dissuade you from writing a review for this chapter. Please.

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The soft keening wail that had come from the dark-haired teen had finally stopped. Dissolved into tearful hiccups and impossible intakes of breath. Chris was trembling as he clung desperately to his brother's corpse. At first when he'd wrapped his arms around his brother Wyatt had still been warm. Now his body was cold and lifeless. He had tried helplessly to will healing to come, begged, pleaded for the life-giving glow to help him bring his brother back. _You can't heal the dead, Chris, even if you could heal.._. Chris was numb, his eyes squeezed tightly shut as he rocked back and forth holding his brother. He didn't even care that he was now covered in the Twice Blessed Witch's blood. Chris's head was bowed forward as he sucked in one hitching breath after another. He just couldn't fill his lungs no matter how much air he tried to draw into them.

"…Wy… come on Wy… Wyatt, you… you can't be dead Wy…" the teen urged despairingly. He had cried until he couldn't cry anymore. He didn't have any tears left, so now the inconsolable teenager's shoulders just shook silently with the heartbreaking loss. If… if Wyatt hadn't come here to help him, if he hadn't asked him to come back… if… if… if…. that horrible two letter word was filled with more self-blame than it had ever been. Chris readjusted his arms around his brother's shoulders, clutching the lifeless form to him. If Wy was gone, then a part of Chris was gone too. "…I need you…" he whispered hoarsely into Wyatt's shoulder.

Alwynne sank to the ground in the doorway, drawing her knees to her chest and watched the heart-breaking scene in front of her. Her hot tears were silent where Chris's had been wails of despair and agony. He was quiet now and that worried her. She caught the sight of his trembling shoulders as he held the lifeless body and shrank back further. Lillith was doing it again. _Had_ done it again. There was another life on her hands and soon there would be two. She was going to have to sit there and watch the woman as she did what she planned with Chris.

Lillith glided from the shadows, emerging as if from the wall and looked towards Alwynne with a chilling smile. Alwynne shrunk back from her, then locked her jaw and opened her mouth to say some warning to Chris. Lillith twitched a finger and Alwynne's mouth closed like her lips had been glued together. Even had she spoken, the words would likely have fallen on deaf ears.

Chris didn't see _her_ because he wasn't looking at anything. His eyes were squeezed tightly shut and he didn't care if a Darklighter appeared behind him and shot him in the back. He really just didn't care. Chris trembled, sucking in breaths that felt like they burned in his lungs, agonizing to him as he clung to Wyatt. Each breath he took was one more that Wyatt would never take again. Lillith's appearance rippled, morphing into that of the boy's mother. Oh, she wasn't done with him yet.

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Piper had fallen asleep with her head leaned against her husband's chest, listening to his heartbeat as he stroked her hair. She'd felt comforted that way, but even comforted she had fallen asleep with a heavy heart and worries over her children in her mind. She couldn't have been asleep more than an hour or two when the sound of the phone ringing woke her with a start. She jerked awake, groggy eyes staring blearily into the darkened room. Leo startled awake as well, sitting up as Piper did and rubbing his eyes.

The phone continued to ring and Piper squinted her eyes at the glowing numerals on the alarm clock. 12:07 am. Her heart was in her throat instantly as she picked up the receiver. Leo reached over and turned on the bedside lamp.

"Hello?" Piper asked with sleep still clouding her vocal chords. She cleared her throat and repeated herself, "Hello?"

"May I speak with Ms. Halliwell or Mr. Wyatt please?" a man's voice said on the other end. Piper could already hear the tone in the voice that was speaking to her. It was the tone of someone who had the unfortunate job of relaying bad news.

"This is Ms. Halliwell speaking," Piper said, moistening her lips as she slid her legs from under the covers and sat on the edge of the bed.

"This is Dr. Hathaway, from the hospital. It's about your son," the man on the other end said.

Piper reached behind her for her husband's hand, but Leo was already reaching for her to supply it. He couldn't hear what the person Piper was speaking to said, but he wanted to give Piper whatever support she might need. From the look on her face he knew she needed it. It couldn't be good news. Then again, they were calling after midnight, so he hadn't expected good news anyway. Unless it had been a call to tell them that Chris had woken up.

"Did he wake up?" Piper asked, echoing Leo's thoughts and sounding hopeful yet doubtful in the same four words.

"I wish that I could say that was what I was calling for m'am," the doctor said gently, "but no. In fact, the reason that I'm calling is because I'm worried that he may not last the night."

Piper dropped the phone. It fell the floor like it was falling in slow motion and she just watched it as it hit the carpet and bounced. Leo moved to pick the phone up from the floor, reading his wife's body language and feeling his stomach twist into an uncomfortable knot. He pressed the phone against his ear and laid a hand on his wife's shoulder.

"This is Chris's father," Leo said, "What's the matter with our son?"

"About thirty minutes ago your son's heart rate took a sudden and rapid elevation. It's well over one hundred beats per minute and still rising. It should be around seventy or so as a resting heart rate, but I just left his room to call you and it was around 135. We haven't yet determined the cause or been able to get his pulse back down to a more normal and safe level," the doctor said.

Leo rubbed slow circles on his wife's back as he listened.

"If it weren't so elevated and continuing to rise, there wouldn't be cause for concern. The heart can beat at an elevated rate for short periods of time to cope with stress. Under normal circumstances it is a perfectly standard physiological response to stress. I believe it's due to an increased sympathetic stimulation, a psychological stress of some sort. The result being the raise in his heart rate. It's like he has taken the 'fight or flight' response and is unable to turn it off," Dr. Hathaway explained.

Leo cleared his throat, disbelieving at how incredibly calm he was taking this news. His son was dying _again_. He should have dropped the phone like Piper had. He felt like he had been punched in the gut, yet somehow he still managed to speak. It was just like he shut down part of his mind and somehow another part turned on so he could manage to calmly ask a question, "What about giving him some sort of antiarrythmics or drugs?"

"We've attempted several different means of intervention," the doctor said, "but none of them are working. Now, I can explain the rest to you over the phone, or it can wait until you arrive at the hospital, but if we aren't able to bring your son's heart rate down soon it's unlikely that he's going to last the night. I thought you would like the opportunity to say goodbye."

"We'll be there soon," Leo said, numbly hanging up the phone. Piper was staring at him with haunted eyes and he quickly enveloped his wife in a hug. "Get dressed, we need to go to the hospital. I'll go get Wyatt."

---------------------------------------------------------

"What have you done?"

Chris lifted his teary eyes to look blearily towards the voice. It was his mother's voice. His face dissolved into tears again when he saw her. When he saw the accusation on her face, Chris opened his mouth to say something, but not words came out. He just ended up choking on them and lowering his head. He'd thought that he didn't have any more tears left and he couldn't have been more wrong. They started leaking hotly down his cheeks again.

"What have you _done_, Christopher?" Piper asked again.

Chris's lower lip quivered and he lifted his eyes to look at his mother again. He was still holding onto handfuls of Wyatt's shirt, trembling, "…I…" He didn't know what to say. There was nothing that he _could_ say. He couldn't say it wasn't his fault. He felt like it was. Wyatt had come back to help him. Wyatt had tried to protect him and it had gotten the older witch killed. "…m…mom…"

Alwynne shut her eyes tight, trying to block it out. She wasn't a Dreamwalker herself. The control she had in this place was learned from being trapped here for so long. She'd had practice, yes. Against an inexperienced _Aisling siúlóir_, she could have done something. Against _Tromlui d'iníon?_ She was like a newborn gazelle staggering to its feet and waiting for a lioness for pounce from the savannah. If she had tried to do anything against Lillith it would have failed miserably. She could have tried anyway, but her attempts would have only further angered the woman and she would take that out on Chris. Alwynne had the knowledge of the place, but not the skill, and so the girl sat. Unable to help, not willing to watch, but forced to listen.

Tears brimmed in Chris's blue-green eyes and rolled down his cheeks, "…he was trying to help me… he… he was just…" Chris hiccupped, choked on the words and squeezed his eyes shut again, "…I didn't mean for…" Another hitching breath that made his words all but incoherent. "…I didn't mean for this to happen. Wyatt…"

Piper was walking towards him and Chris wiped his tear stained cheeks on his shoulders, not wanting to release his hands from where he had clutched his brother's shirt so tightly. He expected his mother to come, to shush him, dry his tears… cry with him over Wyatt. When she grabbed him roughly by the hair and jerked his head back, Chris sucked in a pained breath and yelped. He was so startled that he let go of Wyatt to grab hold of his mother's wrist with both hands. Wyatt's body slumped bonelessly back to the floor, while Chris felt himself being yanked away from him.

"You _killed_ him," Piper accused.

Chris's jaw dropped and then closed in a grimace as the hand that was holding him by the hair dragged him further from Wyatt. He didn't even fight back or defend himself against the accusation. Piper released him just as roughly as she had grabbed him and he tumbled against the couch. Chris wiped at his cheeks with his fingers and looked up at his mother in sorrow. This couldn't be real. Wyatt couldn't be dead… yet the evidence of it was there in Chris's blood stained hands and clothes. But his mother… Chris pressed himself against the sofa and pulled his knees to his chest looking up at her in wounded astonishment. "…I didn't mean for it to… happen…"

Piper loomed over him. For such a short woman, she _loomed_. "Your brother is still dead, Christopher. And his blood is on your hands."

Chris looked towards his brother's corpse again and something within the boy crumbled even further. With his face still blotchy from tears, his heart still thundering away, and his breaths still coming in painful gasps he looked up at his mother, searching for forgiveness. It wasn't there. Instead, Chris saw something smoldering behind her eyes now. Some feverish light that spoke of glee rather than the devastation and heartbreak that should have been present over losing her son. A pleasure at seeing Chris broken and in so much pain over it.

There was no way that woman was Piper Halliwell. Something inside the young brunette witchlighter snapped. Chris's eyes narrowed and his teeth ground together, biting into the insides of his mouth. His fists balled up at his sides and with a primal yell he leapt at the imposter that was wearing his mother's face. _"MURDERER!" _

Alwynne's eyes shot open and she looked with shock at Chris as he sent Lillith to the ground with a hard thump. She somehow doubted that she was as surprised as the Daughter of Nightmares. The woman's form rippled, reverting to its usual appearance as she hit the ground, looking up at the boy who had gone from a quivering whelp to a furious madman. She willed herself away, vanishing from under him only to appear in another part of the room.

Chris caught himself as she disappeared and pushed himself to his feet. His eyes darkened now with fury,_ "You should have killed me first."_

Lillith, shocked though she was at his resilience, smiled. She had thought the boy broken and was expecting the accusation from his "mother" to finish the job. She had made a minor miscalculation.

The floor beneath Chris's feet began to sink, dissolve like quicksand. It was doing the same under Wyatt's body, causing the form of the golden-haired youth to sink into the floor. Lillith calmly folded her hands in front of herself, "Patience, dear child. I was getting to that."

Chris looked towards Wyatt's disappearing body, hardly seeming to notice that he himself was now ankle deep and sinking faster into the floor, "NO!"

Like the fabric of the Dreamworld was listening to his command the floor solidified again. The good part was that he and Wyatt were no longer sinking. The bad part was that Chris's feet were now encased in the floor to the point that he lost his balance. His arms wind milled and he fell backwards on his rear.

The Daughter of Nightmares gaped; her mouth opening and closing several times like a fish as the boy had actually _stopped_ what she had been doing. Chris didn't think about the fact that he had just counteracted whatever it was the woman was attempting to do. He wasn't going to let her do that to Wyatt. Hadn't she already done enough to his brother already? Chris jerked his legs to free them and amazingly enough they pulled free of the floor like they had never been trapped. Springing to his feet, Chris looked at the woman in front of him, pushing his sleeves up, "…you shouldn't have done that."

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Wyatt Halliwell jerked his elbows back, digging them into his mattress hard in a physical expression of what he was feeling. Wyatt was furious. He lay on his back in his bed and after pounding the mattress with his elbows he folded his arms over his chest staring at his ceiling and grinding his teeth together. Why wouldn't his parents listen to him?! He felt betrayed and like they were betraying Chris by not believing him. After everything that their family had been through and experienced, he would have thought they would believe him. Or at least look into it. Worse, his mother expected him to try to go to _school_ tomorrow? He was waiting now, giving his parents time to go to sleep so that he could orb up to the attic and try working on the potion again. _I won't let you down Chris._

Sighing in frustration, Wyatt sat up and ran his hands through his hair. He was determined to help his little brother. He glanced at his clock. It was just a few minutes past midnight now; his parents ought to be asleep. Wyatt was just about to orb to the attic when he heard the main house line ring. It was way too late for a social call even from worried family members. The phone rang again and he heard it stop, indicating that his parents must have picked it up. A little tendril of worry gnawed at his insides. He hoped that he wasn't too late. _Hang on Chris. I'm coming back, I promise._ Wyatt looked towards his door in the darkness.

Several minutes passed before Leo stuck his head into the room, looking somewhat lost. He came into the room, "You awake, Buddy?"

"What's it look like," Wyatt asked sharply, unable to take the heat from his aggravation with his parents out of his voice.

"That was the hospital," Leo said, sitting down on the bed next to Wyatt. There was sadness in his father's eyes and Wyatt's heart missed a few beats. "They called because Chris is--"

"No!" Wyatt said harshly, jumping up out of the bed, "Don't you say it. Don't you dare say it Dad. I am not losing my little brother!"

Leo rested his hands in his lap and lowered his head, unable to look at the intensity in Wyatt's eyes. He sighed heavily, weary shoulders sinking forward, "Wyatt… we're going to the hospital because the doctors don't think Chris is going to make it through the ni--"

"He's not going to die Dad! I can help him! I know you don't believe me, but I can help him!" Wyatt exclaimed shrilly. "I'm not going to watch Chris die! I can't believe that you would even say that! I can't believe you're just (censored) going to sit there and watch him when you can do something about it! But you don't believe me!"

Leo flinched, putting a hand to his chest. He didn't want to do it either. He had already sat by once unable to do a single thing as his twenty-two-year old son from the future died in his arms. Now he was going to have to do it with his not quite sixteen-year-old. But here was Wyatt, denying the truth that the doctor had told Leo on the phone and thinking that he could 'fix it'. Leo felt sympathy for him, in fact his heart was breaking for him. He was glad that he had decided to come in here and do this instead of Piper. "Wyatt, we should be there in case we have to say goodbye."

"No! Damn it! NO! I'm NOT telling my little brother goodbye," Wyatt practically growled. He pointed towards the door, which swung wide and banged hard against the wall. The handle actually left a dent in the plaster where it had struck. Wyatt didn't care. He couldn't believe his parents! He couldn't believe his father could be that damn stupid and insensitive and… "Get out!" Wyatt snapped vehemently.

"Wyatt, you really should come wit--"

"GET. OUT."

"Son--"

The seventeen year old grabbed his father roughly by the shirt and jerked him off of the bed, "I said _get out._ So GET OUT!" He actually gave Leo a hard shove towards the door, blue eyes burning with anger and tears that he was forcefully holding at bay.

Leo blinked up at his eldest son. He wasn't sure how Piper was going to take the fact that Wyatt refused to go to the hospital with them, but even a madman could see that there wasn't going to be any reasoning with him. Closing his eyes and letting out a sad breath, Leo turned and walked out of the room. The door slammed shut behind him hard enough to rock the foundations when Wyatt waved his hand.

Wyatt watched the door and the teen clenched and unclenched his fists. He couldn't believe them! He stood, barefoot and still fully dressed from earlier having never gotten ready for bed, glaring at the door and listening. His mother didn't even shout. He had expected to hear her and then to have her come up to his room to drag him by his ear to the hospital when Leo told her. Scold him for yelling at his father and for practically throwing him out of his room. Something. But it didn't come. He actually heard the front door close downstairs and their car doors open and shut.

Like a man possessed, Wyatt raced out of his room and pounded up the stairs to the attic in haste. He was shouting as he ran, desperation and fear fueling him now as his anger was channeled in a new direction. "PAIGE! AUNT PAIGE!" he shouted at the top of his lungs as he grabbed the book and set it properly back on its stand. Wyatt glared up at the ceiling, "AUNT PAIGE!!"

He paced the attic and shouted again, his voice faltering with notes of fear now, "AUNT PAIGE! NOW! PLEASE, AUNT PAIGE!"

The jingle of orbs produced a sleepy-eyed, pajama wearing Aunt, wiping sleep out of her eyes and yawning. She stared in shock for a moment at the devastation in the attic and then looked at Wyatt bewildered and curious as to why she had been called out of bed. If there had been demons up here, obviously Wyatt had handled them. Paige frowned, wondering where Piper and Leo were at this hour for the attic to be nearly destroyed, Wyatt to be shouting at the top of his lungs, and they not be racing up here to box his ears for giving everyone a heart attack. Her sister and brother-in-law had enough to worry about without Wyatt going off the deep end.

"Aunt Paige!" Wyatt exclaimed, grabbing hold of the woman by her shoulders and hugging her anxiously.

"What? What? What?" Paige asked, eyes going wide as she noticed the look in Wyatt's eyes. Bright, shining blue, ready to brim over with tears, and completely frantic.

"I need your help," Wyatt said in a rambling rush, "You've got to help me Aunt Paige. Please, you've got to help me! I need your help." He wasn't going to let his Aunt go until she agreed to help. New fears kept piling onto the ones that Wyatt already had. What if she didn't believe him? What if his Aunt thought this was just some sleep deprived delusion and abandoned him? Wyatt's hands trembled on her arms.

"I gathered that you needed help from the obnoxiously loud and rude wake up you just gave me," the woman said dryly. She was worried about him, he looked exhausted physically, but was so wired up the poor boy was shaking all over. In short, her nephew looked about one step from losing it completely. She wanted to ask him if he had slept, or where his mom and dad were, but instead the pleading look in his eye put other words on the woman's tongue, "Okay, so what am I helping you with?"

"It's Chris," Wyatt said.

"…Wyatt…"

The boy cut her off, not letting her even get whatever thought she had been about to express out. "Just listen to me!" Wyatt burst. Paige blinked and nodded, his hands had tightened to vice-like grips on her arms. "There's a demon and I need you to help me make a potion to vanquish her or she's going to kill my brother."

Paige winced as her fear for Wyatt's sanity was confirmed. Poor boy, she couldn't blame him. He wanted some physical adversary. At least Wyatt was focusing this on some demon rather than going out looking for the kid that had put Chris in the hospital in the first place. "Where's your mom and dad, Wy?" Paige asked gently.

The tone had Wyatt on edge all over again, and he looked at his Aunt in a disbelief ready to break down. His heart was hammering in his chest so loud he was surprised he was still able to hear himself think, but Paige's soft-spoken words rang loud and clear. "…you don't believe me either…" He kept hold of her, but took a step back. "Mom and Dad are at the hospital Aunt Paige. Chris is dying… and no one will believe me that we can help him… I promised I would help him. I promised… you've got to believe me Aunt Paige…"

Paige rubbed her hands over her eyes and moved them to her temples. Wait? Chris was dying? Paige's heart nearly stopped and she looked at Wyatt. No wonder he was so close to being madder than the Mad Hatter. It also explained where Piper and Leo were. "You didn't go to the hospital with your parents?" Paige asked, sounding surprised.

"NO!" Wyatt snapped. The teen's tears that had been threatening to spill the whole time started to fall as he continued to hold his Aunt's arms. "I didn't go because I'm not going to let her kill Chris. Aunt Paige… please… please… _help me_. Believe me or don't, but Chris's life is depending on this! I need you to help me make this potion or he's going to die! And I don't want to have to tell my brother good-bye. I promised him! I promised him I would help him..."

Towards the end his words started to choke on themselves and Paige caught her lip in her teeth as he dragged her over to the Book of Shadows. Still holding onto her arm as though he was afraid she was going to abandon him, he tapped Lillith's page forcefully several times, "Her. Aunt Paige. She has Chris trapped, she won't let him wake up, and she's killing him with his own nightmares. Just help me."

Paige glanced at the entry in the Book of Shadows then at her nephew, "Wyatt. It's after midnight and my sleep-deprived brain is clearly not tuned in to the same station that yours is. What does this woman, demon, whatever have to do with your brother?"

Wyatt cried out in frustration, so that his Aunt flinched. He released her arm and turned to shout at her, "You're not listening to me either! Everything! She has everything to do with him!"

His jaw tightened and he grabbed hold of her again, pulling her behind him as he started grabbing jars and vials of ingredients with a tense fervor. Paige was wide-eyed as her nephew moved in frantic actions, tugging her along for the ride. She looked back at the page in the Book. "The Daughter of Nightmares," she stated, "…I've never even seen that entry in the Book before…"

"Are you going to help me or not?" Wyatt asked, stacking up the ingredients and turning to look at his Aunt. It was hard to see if he was grabbing the right stuff through his blurry vision. She was looking back at the Book. Wyatt stopped next to it again, letting his Aunt get a better look at the page. He was clutching the vial of almond oil so tightly that his knuckles were white. Wyatt asked in a softer voice, that admitted both the boy's weakness and his vulnerability, "…please Aunt Paige… I can't do this by myself."

Paige scanned the entry in the Book. She looked at Wyatt's tear-stained face when she heard that softly pleading question. Paige's brown eyes looked towards Wyatt's blue, "How do you know it's her? This says that some family named O'Bruadair from Ireland has had her imprisoned for three centuries."

"Then she got out somehow! I know it's her because Chris told me… I talked to him," Wyatt was still holding onto Paige's arm with one hand and the vial in his other so he just nodded towards the page opposite Lillith's, which was written in his Aunt Prue's handwriting, "He's in a coma because she's keeping him there," he indicated the entry for the Dreamworld, "and she's going to kill him if you don't help me. Please, Aunt Paige. _Please_. Chris needs me." Wyatt took a breath to try to even out his voice, but it didn't work well at all, "Chris is going to die. Mom and Dad are heading to the hospital right now because the doctors called. He can't wake up and she's killing him."

Paige moved past Wyatt, actually pulling the teenager with her away from the Book, and towards the waiting cauldron, "Hand me that spoon over there. We've got a potion to make and I've got a nephew to help save."

"You believe me?" Wyatt asked softly, releasing Paige's arm.

"Of course I believe you," Paige said, rolling her eyes. She just wouldn't admit that she thought he was two seconds away from needing a straight jacket a minute ago. She believed him now and that was what mattered.

Relief flooded Wyatt before the adrenaline-fused urgency took over once more. They didn't have time to waste. Wyatt stood at the Book, reading off the ingredients to Paige as she took care in measuring them out properly and adding them to the brew. "Thanks Aunt Paige… I tried a good five times to do it on my own before Mom stopped me from the sixth attempt."

"So _that's_ why the attic looks like a bomb went off," Paige quipped, carefully adding another ingredient. She winced as she started to put in the next one and stopped to rub her temples.

"What's wrong?" Wyatt asked.

"It's really hard to concentrate on this with your mother screaming in my head," Paige said, "She's yelling for both of us. And I didn't think anyone could be louder than you were when you were screaming for me. She sounds urgent."

Wyatt grabs his Aunt's arm and looks at her desperately with his blue eyes. He was suddenly terrified that she was going to abandon him with a half-finished potion and sentence Chris to certain death. Pleading, Wyatt looked from the potion to his Aunt, "Ignore her. Please… I can't do this without help Aunt Paige."

"Ignore her?" Paige asked, wincing again, "Wyatt, are you not hearing her screaming?"

"I put her on mute before you got here. We need to do this," Wyatt said, looking at the cauldron, "We _have_ to do this or my brother is going to die…"

Paige rubbed her temples again, "Okay, okay, I'll put your mother on mute. She's going to be so furious."

"Not if we save Chris," Wyatt said.

It seemed like it took forever before they had finally finished the potion. As Paige was putting it into a vial she looked towards Wyatt, who had been pacing for the last several minutes. His nervous energy was going to wear a hole in the floor. The blonde looked at the potion and frowned, "Great… now I just need to go to sleep."

"Um… question. How do you get the potion that is clearly physical and here in my hand," Paige asked gesturing vaguely, "To wherever Dreamland is?"

Wyatt took the potion into his own hand and walked over to the beat up old couch, laying down, "I haven't a clue. But I know the only way for me to get to Chris is if I sleep…"

He honestly tried. Wyatt attempted to get comfortable. Rolled over. Tried the other side. Seeing his difficulty Paige grabbed a blanket and a pillow, helping to tuck him in. "Just relax, Wyatt."

Wyatt swallowed hard, trying to get comfortable again, "I can't! My heart is beating so hard it's making my whole body shake. I need to sleep…" He had to or Chris was going to die even though he had the potion now. No pressure there.

"Just try," Paige said, kneeling on the floor next to the couch and running her fingers through Wyatt's hair in an effort to calm him down. He had gotten so worked up, now he just couldn't get himself to sleep. One would think after so many sleepless nights the boy would be exhausted enough to sleep for a month. Adrenaline was a funny thing though. That urgency felt in the need to get to Chris and help him was the exact thing that was keeping the young blonde witch awake.

"Isn't there a sleeping potion or something?" Wyatt asked, getting more and more desperate by the moment.

"There is, but we can't know what the side effects might be," Paige told him, "You might be able to sleep, but then you may not be able to dream."

Wyatt made a noise of frustration and rolled onto his side again, "Hit me in the head then! I don't care! Knock me out! Do something… I can't sleep and Chris is going to die if I can't… UGH! This is so frustrating!"

Paige shook her head, "I'm not going to knock you out Wyatt. You can do this. Close you eyes, relax, and take slow deep breaths just think about your brother…"

"I AM. That's why I can't sleep!" Wyatt moaned. His brother was going to die from his nightmares and it was going to be Wyatt's fault because he couldn't sleep. This was terrible. _Chris needs you. Think about Chris._ He had to sleep.

Paige tucked the blanket around him again and began humming a lullaby softly. Wyatt held the potion vial to his chest and closed his eyes, trying to take slow, deliberate deep breaths and listen to quiet humming. _Chris. Chris. I'm coming Chris, hang on…_ Gradually he began to actually relax as the adrenaline started to fade and soon enough Wyatt's breathing was the soft and regular breathing of someone asleep. Paige gave a gentle, encouraging smile to her oldest nephew, and ran her fingers through his golden hair again. "Go get him, Wy."

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Alwynne was watching a scene unfold before her eyes that she never would have imagined possible. Someone was fighting back against Lillith… and it was actually working. She was in shock, standing back in the doorway and watching as Chris waved his hands to send the woman flying again. Lillith thought she had made a minor miscalculation. As Alwynne saw it, this was a lot more than just a 'minor' miscalculation. The boy that the Daughter of Nightmares had thought to be broken was now bent on exacting revenge on her and he clearly didn't care if it killed him to do it.

The walls of the Dreamworld manor shook, rippled in some places, and in others completely disappeared to show a star-filled nothing beyond. Only a strong _Aisling siúlóir_ could have done that and counteracted Lillith's power here. Alwynne watched the dark-eyed, powerfully emotional fury that the brunette witch was unleashing in his grief. Untrained, unpracticed, but the answer to the question he'd had to how he got here was answered. That he had been such a quick learner and had been able to counteract Alwynne's attempts at keeping him in plaid earlier had been a clue. That he had been able to help them get away from Lillith briefly earlier had been a shouting sign. But even the hints had given the girl absolutely no idea what the slender teen could do.

Lillith was throwing everything she could think of at him. Darklighters conjured in the dream and their arrows dissolved into the floor or burst into dust without him even looking at them. Other evils and attempts to cause the youth to falter met with destruction before they got close. The witchlighter had lost all sense in his grief and he was just reacting. Lillith found herself flying across the room again to smack against the wall and dropped. The teen's words were ringing in her ears. She should have killed him first. She shouldn't have done that. She had never met an opponent that she couldn't crush within moments, even those that had been challenges. Certainly this was an unpleasant surprise to the woman that was the self-professed owner of this place. To have the nightmare she'd created for the boy crashing down around them with the very walls of the manor. The very fabric of _Domhan'al'taibhream_ was coming down around them.

She got up and Chris threw her again with his telekinesis. She had killed his brother. She had killed his best friend. He'd give almost anything to have his brother back. But he would settle for making his murderer suffer until he died or until he found a way to vanquish her.

Wyatt, the real Wyatt, appeared just in front of his seething little brother just as Chris had lifted his hand to toss Lillith again. Chris froze. The boy's eyes widened as the awareness of his link to his sibling met his consciousness. He almost didn't believe it, standing in place in total shock. Then he launched himself at his brother, arms wrapping around Wyatt and clinging to him fervently. He had his blue-green eyes closed, holding onto Wyatt as if he let go the older witch would be gone again.

Wyatt wrapped his arms around Chris in return, finding the uncontrollable shaking upsetting. He was shaking like a leaf, so badly that Wyatt was concerned. Protectively Wyatt held his sibling while Chris clung to him. Over the top of Chris's head Wyatt saw the body. _His_ body laying broken on the ground and he turned to look towards Lillith in disgust. "I'm fine Chris, she never touched me."

Chris didn't respond, he just continued to hold onto Wyatt for dear life. Wyatt narrowed his eyes and turned to Lillith as he rested a hand on the back of Chris's head, the other around his trembling brother's back. "What did you do to my brother?" Wyatt asked coolly. Wyatt flicked his hand at Lillith, intending to blast her into little pieces if he could… and nothing happened. The older witch blinked, looking at his hand that was suddenly powerless. And he didn't even have the potion any longer. It wasn't there. Wyatt tried again in vain to blast the white-clad woman approaching them.

Lillith smiled, a cruel, cold and twisted smile and pushed herself back up. Carefully Wyatt pried himself loose from Chris and flicked both of his hands at Lillith to no effect. His powers didn't work? Why didn't his powers work? Chris wanted to cling hold of Wyatt, to continue holding onto his brother as proof that he really was still alive. Tears were still steaming down his cheeks as he put himself in front of his brother. Chris closed his eyes, took a deep breath and the potion vial appeared in his hand.

"It's my fight Wy, just back me up…" Chris said.

Chris waved his hand and flung Lillith against the wall again. Wyatt was a little surprised that his little brother seemed to still have his powers here, but there would be time for understanding how or why later. He reached into his pocket and discovered that the spell he had written down from the book was actually there. He unfolded it and handed it to Chris, placing his hand on his younger sibling's still trembling shoulder.

"Demon of the night who plagues the Dream,

  


Cold-hearted nightmare unleashed a scream,

  


Return to your prison and seal the seam,

  


Tonight marks the end of your dark regime."

Chris, tears still rolling down his cheeks, threw the potion at her and the little vial burst at her feet. Smoke climbed up and wrapped around her, swirling in a cloud that exploded into a dozen tiny stars and a blindingly bright flash. Alwynne covered her eyes and then looked towards the brothers, she wanted to open her mouth to thank them, but the red-haired girl faded out and vanished from sight before she got a chance.

Chris wavered on his feet and if not for Wyatt catching him, he would have fallen to the ground. Wyatt was startled when his little brother did exactly what Alwynne just had; he faded out and vanished from his sight, leaving the older witch staring bewilderedly at his empty arms. He wasn't here any more. Wyatt hoped that meant that Chris was okay and that he'd woken up. Closing his own eyes, Wyatt willed himself to wake as well.

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**Author's Note:** Yay! Now all that's left is a little more resolution which will take place over one or two more chapters… I hope ya'll have enjoyed this. Please read and review! Ask questions if you have them, let me know what you think, or just tell me hello so that I know who's been reading this.


	13. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer:** You know, nothing has changed since the first chapter was written. I still don't own Charmed or the Halliwell brothers. It's so very sad.

**Author's Note:** This is it guys! Thank you so much to everyone who has read and reviewed! This is the last official chapter. I'll finish up with a short epilogue after this, so _technically_ there is one more chapter to go after reading this one, but this is the end to the story. I hope that you've enjoyed reading it as much as I've enjoyed working on it. Jennifer, I know you've been eagerly waiting for this one and to find out how the title ties in with the story... as have many others, well, here you go...

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Piper Halliwell was bent over the hospital bed of her youngest son, tears streaming down her face. Her hand was trembling as she touched his cheek. Leo stood behind her frozen in place just as all of the other mortals in the room were, Piper hadn't thought to exclude him from the freeze that had stopped everything on the third floor of the hospital. All she had thought was stopping her youngest son from dying.

The doctor was leaned over the other side of the bed, his hand poised and his mouth opened where he had just finished telling Piper and Leo that chances were, Chris's heart was going to give out soon. He was going to die. _He is NOT going to die_, Piper thought hotly.

"PAIGE! WYATT!" the woman yelled loudly. It wasn't the first time she had screamed for them. The rules be damned. She wasn't going to let her baby lay here and die when something could be done about it. The Cleaners, the Elders, they could all go to rot for all Piper cared. They could strip her of her powers, do whatever the hell they wanted to, but she would not let them take her baby from her. "DAMNIT PAIGE I KNOW YOU CAN HEAR ME!"

Piper brushed some of Chris's hair away from his forehead and the bandage that wrapped around his head. "Hang on baby, please hang on, your brother and Aunt are coming, they're going to make it all better," Piper said in a breaking voice, "Please just hold on a little longer for Mommy. I can't lose you peanut, I can't."

Piper touched a hand to his bare chest, ignoring all the wires and sensors that were there sending the readings to the monitor. His heart was racing against his bruised chest. His breathing was so painfully rapid. "PAIGE!! WYATT!!!" Piper cursed again. The seconds continued to tick by. Someone was going to notice that there was no activity from the third floor or the ICU. That no one was answering the phones. Time and fate were working against her, but Piper refused to let her son die. She looked towards the ceiling and screamed for her sister again, and then turned to shouting at the Elders, "I AM NOT GOING TO LET YOU TAKE HIM FROM ME!"

She turned behind her and waved a hand at Leo. He staggered forward a step as he unfroze, then looked around at the halted animation of everyone else in the room. "Piper!"

"He's going to die Leo! I won't let our son die!" Piper said, touching Chris's face again. "WYATT! Come help your brother! PAIGE, DAMNIT PAIGE!"

"Someone is going to notice, Piper," Leo said, coming up behind her. He was just as desperate to keep his son alive. He had already lost Chris once. A different Chris, but it was still his son, and he did not want to have to do it again. He had to think of the other concerns though. The exposure of magic had been what had nearly cost him Piper so many years ago and it _had_ cost them Piper's older sister Prue. Magic exposure had nearly cost them their lives a number of times, and when Wyatt had been a baby, the Cleaners had tried to erase him.

"Why aren't they coming? I've been screaming for them and they aren't coming Leo!" Piper screeched, "PAIGE!"

"How long has the floor been frozen?" Leo asked.

Piper ground her teeth together, tears rolling down her cheeks in a war of sadness, desperation and anger. "Just a few minutes."

"Piper..." Leo said, looking worriedly towards the door. Someone was bound to notice.

"_What?_" the woman snapped at him, "I don't give a damn Leo! Chris is dying! The doctors can't do anything for him! You heard him Leo! He said that the only thing we could do was sit here and wait because nothing they had tried was bringing his heart rate down! PAIGE! WYATT! Damnit Leo, I can't believe Wyatt is abandoning his brother to die! PAIGE!"

The jingling chime of someone orbing in was music to Piper's ears. She turned and grabbed her sister before Paige had finished solidifying and thrust her still pajama clad self at Chris's bed. "Heal him!" Piper commanded.

Paige staggered forwards and sucked in a breath. She had turned the 'mute' off once Wyatt had fallen asleep and had been assaulted by her sister's angry cries of desperation. Paige bit her lower lip when she saw the panicked breaths coming from her nephew and when she held her hands over him she could tell how fast his heart was racing. Wyatt's words about Chris being killed by his nightmares stung Paige when she saw it happening before her eyes. She had been there when the other Chris had died and this scared her because of how similar this felt. Paige held her hands over Chris and waited, but no golden glow came.

"It's psychological, Piper," Paige said quietly, waiting for something to explode in the nearby vicinity, "Even if the Elders decided to let my powers work so that I could heal his injuries from the football game, they wouldn't help what's kill him now."

"NO!" Piper said, refusing to believe it, "Where's Wyatt? WYATT! He can try... get out of the way Paige... WYATT!"

Paige backed up, letting her sister back to her son's side. Leo rested a hand on Piper's arm, looking broken and defeated. Paige shook her head, "Wyatt's at the Manor. That's where I was before I came here, he put you on 'mute' and... he's asleep Piper, he's not coming."

Piper turned to stare at her sister, but she was back to brushing her hands against Chris's face, trying to speak soothingly to him. Trying to calm him down, wishing she could get his heart rate to slow to normal. Paige wrapped her arms around herself. Wyatt had to help Chris stop the Daughter of Nightmares. Paige didn't dare say something to Piper about the demon or that she believed Wyatt might be right. Not with Chris lying there dying and Piper hysterical over it. Paige in her pajamas looked out of place in the hospital room. But the fact that she, her sister, and her brother-in-law were the only ones still moving and talking on the entire floor was just as out of place.

Paige turned her head sharply towards the wall when she heard something of an explosion from next door. Piper stood up and looked, as did Leo, towards the next room. A hissing sound and then the sounds of many small objects raining down on the floor followed the explosion. All three of them were as motionless as the frozen doctors and nurses.

"Piper, you need to unfreeze the floor," Leo said softly, when the heard the phones out at the nurses station ringing again, "It's been too long."

"Not before we know what that was. Paige," Piper started to ask her to go see what had happened next door, but the younger Charmed One was already walking out the door in her slippered feet.

Paige stuck her head back into Chris's room, "I don't know Piper, there's just a girl lying in the bed in there. I didn't see anything that we should be worried about."

Chris groaned softly in the bed and Piper looked down at him, then up at her sister. "Leo's right, I can't keep the floor frozen any longer..."

"I'm sorry I couldn't heal him Piper, I tried..."

"I know. Go, Paige," Piper said, watching her sister disappeared in a cloud of orbs.

Once Paige was out of sight, Leo moved back into position and Piper closed her still tear-filled eyes and waved her hands. The floor unfroze as if nothing at all had happened in the intervening space of time. One of the nurses out at the nurses' station answered the phone.

"--terribly sorry Ms. Halliwell, Mr. Wyatt, there's nothing else that we can do," the doctor finished the sentence that Piper had halted him in the middle of. Dr. Hathaway's brow creased, however and he lifted his eyes to look up at Chris's heart rate monitor. "Huh."

"Huh? What do you mean 'huh'?" Piper asked, following the doctor's line of sight. She didn't know what he was 'huh'-ing about. She saw when she looked; Chris's heart rate was dropping. It wasn't the sudden stop that the doctor had told them to be expecting that would signal that it had given out. It was just slowly and steadily descending back to a normal rate.

The doctor stood up and scratched his head in confusion. He picked up Chris's chart and shook his head, consulting with one of the nurses, trying to explain what had just happened. Piper grabbed Leo's hand, confused as well, but her relief outweighed that by leaps and bounds.

A soft cough sent misting breath against the mask over Chris's face and Piper dropped down next to him, resting a hand on his forehead. The fifteen-year-old's eyelids fluttered, squeezed tight in pain, and then drifted open. Piper was so relieved that her legs almost gave out. Leo wrapped an arm around her and looked down at his son, tears pricking his eyes yet again.

"...wyatt..." Chris croaked weakly.

Chris's mother brushed her hand over his face, "Hey baby..."

"...mom? ...w...where's wyatt...?"

"Wyatt is at the house baby, he didn't come with us," Piper said, "We were so scared... how do you feel?"

"...mom, wy... where's wy...?" Chris repeated in weak tones. He was tired, as exhausted as if he had actually been fighting a battle - which he had, like he'd been running a marathon - which had a lot to do with how long his heart had been racing, and he was emotionally drained beyond words from what he'd experienced. And he hurt. His arm and right side were throbbing, his leg ached, and his head had a slow dull pounding. Chris just wanted his brother. He wanted to actually see Wyatt, awake, safe, moving around. He needed his big brother.

The doctor was leaning over him now, and Chris looked up at the man in tired confusion.

"Hey there son," Dr. Hathaway said, checking him out, "You're a very lucky young man. I don't know how, but you must have a guardian angel looking out for you somewhere."

The doctor shined a pen light into his eyes and Chris squinted, wondering if that had really been necessary. The doctor stood up and looked to Piper and Leo, "For a wonder, he seems to be okay. Heart rate is returning to normal, he's responsive, awake. I would like to run some tests though. A few things to make sure that the extended time his heart was under stress didn't cause any permanent damage and I'd like to run a CAT scan."

Piper was brushing her fingers over Chris's face, fussing over him, but she was nodding to the doctor, agreeing to whatever was going to ensure her that her son was going to be okay. Chris didn't care what kinds of tests the doctor wanted to run; he just wanted to see Wyatt. Sure it was frustrating as always to be talked about by the doctor like he wasn't sitting there listening.

"Dr. Hathaway?" a nurse said from the door.

The man looked up from writing down the tests that he was ordering on the clipboard, "Uh huh?"

"The O'Bruadair girl just woke up in the room next door..."

The doctor passed the clipboard off to a nurse and started out of the room, "Sounds like somebody's guardian angel is getting a work out tonight..."

"...wyatt," Chris confirmed softly, with a weak smile behind the oxygen mask.

---------------------------------------------------------

Wyatt jerked awake, sitting upright on the couch in the Manor's attic and looking around. The potion vial was no longer in his hand. How Chris had gotten it, as beyond explanation to Wyatt, but he didn't care. It was magic. So many things in magic weren't easily explainable. His Aunt Paige was gone, but he would have to thank her for her help. He'd helped Chris. True, Wyatt hadn't exactly _done_ much of anything. He had wanted to blast that woman into bits for making Chris believe that he was dead and for hurting his brother and couldn't. But he _had_ been there when Chris needed him, no thanks to his parents. The thought of his parents sent a pulse of anger through the young man, but he shook it off. He had to get to Chris.

Wyatt swung his legs over the side of the couch and got up. He ran down the stairs to grab a pair of sneakers from his room and put them on without bothering to put on socks with them, tucking the laces inside so that he didn't have to tie them either. _...wyatt..._ it was weak, but it was definitely Chris. Chris was okay! Wyatt could have flown.

He did the next best thing; he orbed himself into an empty stall in the hospital bathroom, after making sure that no one else was in the bathroom. Wyatt raced down the halls towards the ICU and his little brother's room. The doctor and several nurses were stepping out, the doctor shaking his head and talking back and forth with the nurses as they walked into the room next to Chris's. Wyatt barely spared them a glance.

Wyatt slid into Chris's room, to see his parents sitting around Chris's bed. And Chris... Chris was awake. "Chris!" Wyatt exclaimed.

"...wy..." Chris said in barely audible relief.

"Hey little brother, you had me worried there for a while," the blonde said, feeling the near overwhelming sense of relief at seeing Chris lying there awake. It was a reciprocated feeling. Wyatt didn't even acknowledge his parent's presence in the room.

"Wy?"

Wyatt came over towards the bed, "Yeah?"

"Thanks."

Wyatt actually laughed quietly through tears that he found returning to his eyes. He sat on the edge of the bed and leaned over his brother to give him a gentle hug. "...you're welcome, bro. Not that I feel like I did much."

"...you did enough," Chris's voice was still weak and tired sounding, "Thanks for backing me up."

"Thanks? You're welcome?" Piper asked, looking between the two, "Wyatt, I was calling for you, you didn't answer. What is going on? Chris was dying, Wyatt and you ignored us. Paige said you put me on mute!"

Wyatt looked at his mother, his jaw tightening a bit, "Yeah. Chris was dying. And I was doing something about it." Wyatt looked down at Chris when he felt his little brother squeeze his hand. "You didn't listen to me and Chris almost died. There was a demon and you didn't believe me. Aunt Paige helped me make the vanquishing potion."

Piper blinked, looking from the accusing expression in her eldest son's face, then to her youngest son for confirmation. She was glad that she was standing in front of a chair, because she sat down in it hard as the weight of guilt slammed upon her shoulders. Leo felt like he had just been slapped in the face and the man's mouth opened and closed.

"Chris?" Piper asked.

"It's a long story," Chris said quietly. And one that he really didn't want to go into with his parents. Wyatt could see the pained look flashing in his little brother's eyes and the older witch wished there was something he could do to erase everything Chris had experienced in his nightmares from his memory. Chris continued, softly, "...but... Wy helped me vanquish a demon... in the World of Dreams... _Domha_... I can't pronounce it... Alwynne..."

Chris looked up at Wyatt, remembering, "Alwynne... is... is she okay?"

Piper and Leo exchanged guilty looks, and then Leo asked, "Who's Alwynne?"

"The innocent," Chris said, trying to move to sit up in the bed, but he grimaced in pain and lay still again.

"Chris was protecting her from Lillith," Wyatt said, getting up, "She's probably here in the hospital too. I'll go check on her Chris. Don't worry I..."

Chris held tight to Wyatt's hand, "...don't... I... don't leave me..."

Wyatt sat back down on the edge of the bed, "I'm not going to Chris."

"Wait, wait... this was a _demon?_" Piper asked, the reality was finally sinking in. Placing a hand to her chest, she was clearly distraught by the news. How bad she had felt for yelling at Wyatt earlier was nothing compared to how much like dirt she felt right now. Piper's tears started immediately rolling down her cheeks. Wyatt had been telling the truth and she had just ignored him. She'd passed it off as... God she felt horrible.

Wyatt's jaw tightened again and if not for Chris speaking, he might have said something to his parents that he would have regretted. He would have snapped at his mother and made her feel even worse than she already was. Chris intervened though.

"Dad always says that everything happens for a reason," Chris said softly.

"I am so sorry that we didn't believe you, Wyatt..." Leo started.

Wyatt didn't give Chris a chance to cut him off this time, not with Leo. "You'd think my own parents would believe me." Wyatt shook his head and sneered at his father, "'I'm sorry' doesn't mean a hell of a lot to me right now. I needed you... no, _Chris_ needed you and would you listen to me? No. You would have rather sat by and watched Chris die than believe me."

"Wyatt," Leo started.

Wyatt cut him off, blue eyes narrowing, "Save it for someone who cares. My brother is alive, no thanks to you."

"Wy..." Chris said quietly, trying to play family peacekeeper.

"No, Chris," Wyatt said, "You asked me for help and I tried. Then they treated me like I was losing my mind. There is nothing more important to me than Chris and you nearly killed him!"

"That's not fair Wyatt, we didn't know," Leo countered. The former whitelighter rested a hand on his wife's shoulder as she started crying even harder.

"If you would have stopped screaming at me for one minute and talked to me, I could have shown you. It was in The Book. Did you stop? No. My baby brother's life is on the line and do I get a moment of your time? No, I get 'Go to your room and go to sleep you have school tomorrow'," Wyatt said bitterly.

Chris flinched and looked at his parents to see if that was true. That had been cruel. They had ignored Wyatt's plea for help? He found it hard to believe their mom would send Wyatt to school. She couldn't have meant that if it had been said.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," Piper cried, covering her face with her hands. Leo rubbed Piper's back.

"If you think for a second that I'm gonna forgive you for nearly killing my baby brother, you don't know me at all," Wyatt said a bit coldly. He knew he needed to leave the room for a moment and get away from his parents before he said something that would be even more hurtful. He squeezed Chris's hand, "I'm gonna go check on your innocent. I'll be right back, I promise."

Chris squeezed his hand back; Chris didn't want him to go. He'd feel that insecurity and anxiety creep back the second Wyatt was out the door, but knowing his brother as he did, Chris knew Wyatt needed to step out right then. Chris watched Wyatt slip out the door and turned to look at his crying mother and guilty-faced father.

---------------------------------------------------------

The doctor and nurses had cleared out of the room next door, talking about how unusual it was that two patients had woken from their comas, the miracles, etc. Wyatt knew just how miraculous it was, but he was sure that the mortals would come up with some logical way to explain it. He was fairly certain that his little brother's neighbor was the girl that had been in the Dreamworld with him. The woman that Wyatt had seen, Lillith, had been in that room yesterday. He knew it was her. When he had seen her again in the Dreamworld he had recognized her and the chill that her icy stare brought. Which meant the likelihood was, that Alwynne was the patient in that room. It was confirmed when Wyatt saw the name _A. O'Bruadair_ written beside the door.

The blonde witch lifted his hand to rap his knuckles gently on the door and stepped inside. Alwynne was sitting up in her bed. She looked a little younger, was thinner and paler than Wyatt had seen her in the Dream, but he recognized her when she looked towards the door. One of her legs was propped up with a bandage wound around the knee and the left side of her face had yellowing bruises that spoke of her own healing head injury. Wyatt left his emotional baggage for his parents at the door.

"Wyatt... right?" she asked in a quietly lilting voice.

"Yeah," he said, stepping the rest of the way into the room, "Alwynne?"

"That's me," the red-head replied, "How's Chris?"

"Being fussed over by my mother and father. He's going to be okay," Wyatt said, stopping by Alwynne's bed, "I don't know why, but I feel like I have you to thank for that."

Alwynne shook her head, "No. I was just the damsel in distress. I have _him_ to thank for _me_ being okay. And you."

"I just brought the vanquishing potion and the spell. I didn't even make the potion, my Aunt did," Wyatt said quietly, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

"Modest heroes are the best kind," Alwynne said, with a smile. She gestured towards the chair by her bedside, inviting Wyatt to sit down.

"Chris wanted me to make sure you were okay..."

"I'm not being held prisoner in my own mind any more, I think that constitutes as being okay. I'm still in the hospital, but I'll take one small step at a time. I had a riding accident, my horse spooked... although, I found out when Lillith trapped me that it wasn't so much of an accident. The doctor just told me I've been in a coma for two weeks. It feels like years," Alwynne raised a hand to her head, "They said they were going to call my family to let them know I'm awake... there... there won't be anyone for them to call. Brianna's gone."

"Brianna?" Wyatt asked, reaching back to pull the chair closer to the bed so that he could sit down. It grated over something on the floor and the blonde witch glanced down.

"She was my big sister. My legal guardian," Alwynne responded somberly.

Wyatt frowned down at the floor, as he settled into the chair, "I wonder if the nurses noticed all these pebbles all over the floor here. I should mention it to them when I step out... it's not like they're small or anything. Someone could hurt themselves." He bent over, reaching to pick one up.

"Pebbles?" Alwynne shot upright, nearly falling out of her bed, "No! Don't touch them!"

Wyatt jerked his hand back from the round green stone he'd been about to pick up and looked at her. Alwynne was bent over the side of the bed, blue eyes wide and looking at the scattering of tiny stones underneath the chair.

"Why shouldn't I touch th--"

"Count them! How many? How many are there?" Alwynne asked. Wincing the girl tried to pull herself out of the bed.

Wyatt looked at her in confusion. He really didn't understand the significance a bunch of green and blue rocks scattered on the floor had. "I don't know, a dozen or so... that doesn't explain why I shouldn't pick one up."

"Thirteen. There should be thirteen stones. Please count them, but don't touch them. Do you have a container? A jar? A bag?" Alwynne asked, still trying to get out of the bed. Her injured leg wasn't cooperating with her, nor was her now swimming head.

Wyatt motioned for her to stay put. Her urgency was getting to him, even if he didn't understand it. He slid out of the chair and began counting the number of stones that lay scattered across the floor, "Twelve."

"There has to be another one," Alwynne breathed softly, her tired voice worried.

"Why shouldn't I touch the stones? And what do you want a container for?" Wyatt asked, now on his hands and knees on the hospital floor trying to find the thirteenth stone that she said should be there.

"Because your brother sealed _her_ up again and I don't want you to free her! Trust me Wyatt. Don't touch the stones. My sister made that mistake. I didn't realize it until it was too late. I saw what happened when your brother thought he lost you. I don't want it to happen for real. We need to contain the stones again so that no one can touch them," Alwynne explained.

Wyatt could understand that. He moistened his lips and bent to look under the bed. There, the last one was under the bed and against the wall. "...thirteen. I don't know what to put them in though..."

Alwynne breathed a sigh of relief that there were indeed thirteen stones and one hadn't somehow managed to leave the room. She sank back against her pillow. The girl sat up again and smiled at Wyatt, "I do. Pillowcase. It will work for now. Just so no one touches them with their bare hands. Brianna must have. I don't know why she would have, she was raised knowing the dangers and knowing the story of the Daughter of Nightmares just as I was."

Wyatt stood up and Alwynne helped him get the pillowcase off. The Twice Blessed Witch returned to his hands and knees on the floor. Alwynne leaned over the bed watching him as he collected the stones using the pillowcase and making sure that he didn't actually touch one. "I read some of that in our Book of Shadows. The O'Bruadair family..."

"One of my ancestors trapped Lillith a little over three hundred years ago," Alwynne continued, "I come from a long history of Dreamwalkers. My older sister was one, my mother, my grandmother, and my great grandmother... I think I'm the first girl in the family to be born without the power to walk the dream on my own. It's a rare power, but every generation of our family has been able to do it, to be trained by the previous generation with the weight of our magical obligation. Brianna was supposed to be this generation's Dreamkeeper. It's been our family's duty to keep _Domhan'al'taibhream_ safe. When Lillith was trapped in the stones, it also became our duty to guard them. My mother died a year ago, so I came to America to live with my big sister Brianna. My mother left the bag of stones with me, to pass the duty on to Brianna. I should have known something was wrong months ago when my sister started acting differently. If I had suspected something... maybe Bri..."

Alwynne stopped her recounting of her family's history, looking away. Wyatt glanced up at her, but didn't say anything for a long moment. Instead he bent under the bed again and made a small motion with his hand to bring the last stone closer with his telekinesis. He scooped that one into the bag as well and stood up, spinning the pillowcase in a circle, "So... what you're saying is... Lillith possessed your sister."

Alwynne lowered her eyes, "Yes."

Wyatt sat down in the chair, holding the pillowcase full of stones. It wasn't any more than a handful. "I'm sorry..." Wyatt said softly.

"And I'm sorry for what she did to you and your brother," Alwynne whispered, "She wanted to keep me there in revenge for my family imprisoning her for so long. I was fortunate that Chris came to _Domhan'al'taibhream_. Even more fortunate that he was a Dreamwalker himself or we never would have survived Lillith's last attack. It was so cruel."

"Wait. Chris is a Dreamwalker?" Wyatt asked.

Alwynne smiled through the grieving tears for her sister. She had shed most of them while she was trapped in the Dream, knowing that her sister was lost, but it was quite a different thing to be awake and faced with the knowledge that it was true. Pushing them down, she answered Wyatt, "He is. Aye, and quite a powerful one. He must be a powerful, good and noble witch. Dreamwalkers must have a pure, loyal heart."

"He has his moments," Wyatt smirked, but then he frowned. "You said this power is rare?"

"Aye, the rarest of gifts. In the last three hundred years there've been maybe ten of the level that your brother showed recorded outside of my family... Lillith killed a weaker one while I was trapped. She hadn't even a novice's grasp of the ability. It is a difficult gift to learn to control and your brother did it quickly. Such a powerful witch," Alwynne breathed the last in quiet awe of Chris. Alwynne wiped her cheeks and added with another soft smile for Wyatt, "You should know that it is an honor to have a Dreamwalker in the family."

"I'll keep that in mind," Wyatt said. Alwynne thought Chris was such a powerful witch, Wyatt wondered if she had a clue what power he himself packed.

"Thank you Wyatt," Alwynne said, "and thank Chris for me?"

"I will," he agreed, "I'll come back and check on you later. I promised Chris I wouldn't be long."

"I'm glad you are alive Wyatt," the girl said.

"Me too," he admitted, handing her the bag of pebbles. She looked at it with sorrow-tinged eyes and Wyatt stepped out of the door.

---------------------------------------------------------

Chris looked up towards the door when Wyatt walked back in and the feeling of security came back. "Wy..." The brunette witch looked towards his parents, "C...can we have a minute?"

"Sure peanut." Piper kissed his forehead and noticed him wrinkling his nose. "You really hate that?"

"Uh, it was cute when I was little. Now it's a little embarrassing," Chris said.

"Oh," Piper looked hurt, but messed with Chris's blankets, "Your father and I will call everyone and tell them the good news. We'll be back in a little bit."

"Can you close the door?" Chris asked as Wyatt sat beside him.

"Sure. We'll be back buddy," Leo said, shutting the door behind him.

Chris's eyes were filling with tears the moment his parents were out of the room. Wyatt sat on the edge of the bed and took Chris's left hand in his. "I thought I lost you, Wy..." Chris said, "She... she made me re-live my fourteenth birthday..."

Some of the tears rolled over and fell down Chris's pale cheeks. Wyatt could feel his brother's panic starting to rise again through their empathic link. The older witch's stomach twisted though at the thought of Chris having to re-live that experience a second time. He'd seen the house, he'd gotten there just in time and they had all been lucky that the demons had forgotten about the basement. Wyatt reached over with the pad of his thumb to wipe one of the tears rolling down Chris's cheek away. "Shh..." he soothed.

"The second time I knew not to go into the dining room or the kitchen," Chris said in a quavering whisper as he recounted the experience, "But, but... I... I went into the living room and... and you were lying there... and I... I... she made me think you were dead and that..."

Wyatt gently bent to hug Chris, trying to be careful of his brother's injuries, "Hey, I'm fine... I'm fine Chris..."

"...she made me think you were dead..." Chris whispered again, the words painful, but there was comfort in having Wyatt right there. "...I thought... I thought you had come back... to help... and she..."

Wyatt held onto him as the words were muffled into his shirt. When Chris had finally stopped, and Wyatt knew he'd reached the point where he had shared all that he could for that moment, Wyatt pulled back from the hug. He wiped his younger brother's cheeks for him again. Cupping Chris's hand in both of his, Wyatt said, "She will never hurt you again. Alwynne will make sure of it."

"She's okay?" Chris asked, yet again proving his unfailing ability to put others first.

"Lost her sister," Wyatt admitted softly. He shared the look with Chris and also shared the pain of what that experience would be like. It was something that he didn't want to actually have to live through and one that he didn't want his little brother to have to either. "There was nothing we could do for her Chris. She was gone before you were hurt. We can't blame ourselves for that..."

Chris nodded, reluctantly accepting it. They couldn't save everyone, but he'd at least made a difference and Alwynne was safe. So instead of dwelling on what couldn't be changed, Chris decided to address the other issue, "You're really angry at mom and dad."

"Furious. They turned their backs on me. On us," Wyatt said, darting a look towards the door, "They weren't there Chris..."

"...but you were," Chris said.

"Yeah. I was," Wyatt said. He looked at his brother and made a promise, "I'll _always_ be there for you Chris."

"I'll be there for you too," the younger boy said, "...just, don't be mad at mom and dad forever, Wy. They mess up too some times..."

"Yeah," Wyatt partially relented. His parents hadn't trusted him, hadn't believed him, and hadn't helped him. It was going to take time to get over this and the fact was, Wyatt doubted that he could ever really rely on his parents again completely. It was just going to take time. He gave Chris a soft smile, "I won't be mad at them forever."

"Good," Chris said, smiling weakly, "...cause, you know Mom's going to start saying how much of a horrible mother she is... and she's not... she's not a horrible mom, Wy."

"Even when she calls you peanut in front of your friends?" Wyatt asked, smiling in spite of himself.

"Well, that I could do without," Chris said, making a face, "But you don't think she's a horrible mom do you?"

Wyatt shook his head, "No, but this isn't going to go away overnight Chris. But enough about that... you've got to get well, so you can get out of this bed and get your arm back in shape. Jason said he wouldn't even complain about you having the QB position anymore."

"He did?" Chris asked skeptically, taking his brother's change of subject without complaint.

"Yeah. And the cheerleaders had some card for you. I left it at home, but I can bring it tomorrow..." Wyatt said, getting comfortable. He wasn't planning on going anywhere and frankly, it was just good to have his little brother back.

"Now you're just pulling my leg," Chris said.

"Nope, I swear," Wyatt remarked, "There was even perfume sprayed all over it."

"Liar," Chris said with a smile, leaning back against his pillow and feeling even more comfortable.

"Chris, when have you ever known me to be able to lie convincingly?" Wyatt asked.

Chris thought about it for a moment and then actually chuckled, misting up the inside of the mask over his nose, "I don't see your wisdom teeth, so maybe you are telling the truth."

"I am," Wyatt said, "and you know, you're gonna owe Jess an apology. She was actually looking forward to dressing up for our double date to the Homecoming Dance and you missed it."

"HAH! It was supposed to be a date, I knew it!" Chris said.

Wyatt grinned, "Well, maybe for you and Jess, but Cait and I are just friends..."

"Whatever... I was only going with Jess to chaperone _you_ and to make sure you were a gentleman with Cait."

"Please. I'm always a gentleman... and there would've been nothing to chaperone between me and Cait. We're just _friends_."

Chris paused, then quietly said, "Hey... Wy...?"

"Yeah, bro?"

"You're gonna stay here the rest of the night, right?"

"'Course I am."

"...good, cause I don't think I want to sleep again for a long time," Chris said softly.

Wyatt shifted, making himself more comfortable on the edge of Chris's bed and smiled, "I'm not going anywhere, bro."

"So, how are you going to apologize to Cait for missing your date?" Chris asked with an impish look at his brother.

"It wasn't a date!" Wyatt exclaimed, but he was glad... very glad to have his little brother back.

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**Author's Note:** Ya'll know the drill... hit the button. Write me a review. Inspire me to continue spilling my words onto pages for you to read. A big thanks to Jennifer for helping me get over my "end of the story" writer's block. I couldn't have gotten this done without her help.


	14. Epilogue

**Disclaimer:** You know, nothing has changed since the first chapter was written. I still don't own Charmed or the Halliwell brothers. It's so very sad.

**Author's Note:** It's over… -sniffle- I know. Ya'll are all as sad as I am that this one is actually over. But really, even though this one is over, it's just the beginning. Because finishing this story makes room for me to work on the others.

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"You know, this food is really terrible," D.J. Anderson said, from where he was sitting at the foot of Chris Halliwell's hospital bed. He poked at what was supposed to be passing for a meal with Chris's spoon. D.J. had Chris's tray of lunch sitting on his lap as he sat looking up at the television mounting in the corner of the room.

"If it's so terrible, then why have you come in here and eaten it every day for the last two weeks?" Chris asked, shifting uncomfortably in his bed. He pressed the button on the little remote and changed the channel.

"Hey, I was watching that!" D.J. griped, "And I'll have you know that I happen to be testing your food to make sure it's not poisoned and that it's safe for you to eat."

Chris rolled his eyes, but he laughed, "And every day you say the same thing. That it's terrible. When are you going to make good on that promise to bring me some real food?"

"To do that I would have to have money to _buy_ real food, or raid the refrigerator at your house. Besides, you know your brother is going to bring you something. He always does," D.J. answered turning around and reaching for the remote, "Change it back, that was Jennifer Garner and she's totally hot."

"Dee, she's like what? Almost fifty? She's old enough to be your mom!" Chris said, continuing to flip the channels. His right arm was in a sling and he flexed his fingers from the cast that had been set around it. The darn thing was itching again.

"Ah, but when she made this movie that you just so rudely changed _while I was watching it_, she was in her prime," D.J. said, "So change it back."

Chris relented, changing it back, "How many times have you seen that movie?"

"Elektra? This will make number twenty-three, but who's counting?" D.J. said, sticking the spoon into what the hospital passed for mashed potatoes. The dark-haired boy had the spoon halfway to his mouth before he realized what he was doing. He made a face and turned to pass the tray to Chris, "Here, it's all yours."

"Ugh!" Chris said taking it and wrinkling his nose, "Like I want it after you've slobbered all over my silverware. Sometimes I wonder if you weren't raised by wolves…"

"Humans actually, a very close second," the half-manticore said with a twinkle in his eyes, "God she's hot."

"She's flat chested," Chris said, knowing that would rile his friend up. He glanced towards the door of his room. They had moved him out of the ICU the day after he'd woken up, but here he was, still waiting to be released from the hospital. After making sure that no one was walking by or looking, he floated the tray of food that only D.J. had touched over to the nightstand. "…you probably even liked her in that movie where she was a teenager in an adult's body. Even _she_ showed how lacking she was in that movie."

"Okay A, Yes, I _did_ like her in that movie it was funny - and Chris I swear to God if you laugh at me I'm going to force feed you that cardboard meatloaf - the name of it was 13 Going on 30 and it was a nice throwback to the movie Big from 1988 starring Tom Hanks, only with a woman. And B…"

"I'm waiting…" Chris said with a smile.

"Well, there is no B, because you made me forget it with that bloody little smirk of yours, but now you've made me miss one of the best parts of this movie and I'm very peeved at you," D.J. said looking back towards the TV. He was now standing at the foot of Chris's bed with his arms crossed over his chest and his head craned up to look at the screen.

"You're _peeved_ at me? Are you really going to graduate this year and the best word you can come up with for being angry with me is _peeved?_" Chris asked.

D.J. held a finger up to his lips, "_Shhh…._ I'm watching this. I also resent that remark."

"No, you _represent_ that remark and the failures of America's education system," Chris teased the older boy, "Seriously. D. J.… _peeved?_ Couldn't you use something like, oh gee, I don't know _vexed,_ _irritated, annoyed, _heck, even _cross_ would do… what is peeved supposed to mean? Do you even know what it means? Where the heck did you hear that word? And who did you speak to that actually used it coherently in a sentence so that I can hand them a dictionary?"

"I'm taking pity on you because you're an invalid right now," D.J. said in a monotone, sticking his tongue out at Chris.

"Why? I'm not holding any punches. My arm and leg are broken, not my mouth," Chris smirked. He gestured to the screen, "See, look, there she is again… completely flat chested even with the help of that leather corset. You need to pick another actress to fawn over so the guys at school won't laugh at you. What happened to your obsession with Reese Witherspoon? Angelina Jolie? Heck, what happened to Sarah Michelle Gellar? All still way too old for you, but they're better than Jennifer Garner! Please! Red leather?"

"They were last month," D.J. turned to look at Chris, "She is not flat chested! You're one to talk. You don't even have any experience…"

"Neither do you! I have _eyes_, D.J."

D.J. ignored him and continued, like Chris hadn't spoken at all, "Besides more than a handful is a wa--aaaand--I'm not going to finish that sentence because mixed company just rolled in." D.J. looked sheepishly towards the door and blushed furiously all the way up to his hairline, "Hi."

"Oh, dinna stop on my account," Alwynne said, her eyebrows raised and her lips twitching in amusement. She was using her hands to move the wheels of her wheelchair, guiding herself into the room, "I'm sure there was a very colorful end to that sentence. Hey guys."

"Don't mind D.J. He was just trying to defend his Hollywood obsession of the week. I kind of wish he would pick someone modern so that I could actually find some inkling of interest, but he insists on picking women that are currently in their late forties or early fifties," Chris said.

Alwynne rolled her chair over next to his bed, "Might I make a recommendation? She's not modern, though."

"Please?" D.J. said, grabbing the wheelchair that was tucked in the corner of the room for Chris and sitting in it. The seventeen-year-old started wheeling back and forth.

"Don't encourage him," Chris said, wrinkling his nose.

"Go with someone a bit more classic. Marilyn Monroe," Alwynne offered.

"Marilyn Monroe," D.J. mused, leaning back so that he was doing a bit of a wheelie, "I'll give that one some thought… the original blonde bombshell…"

"The original blonde bombshell? You're not talking about Wyatt are you?" another familiar voice asked as a pair of knuckles rapped on the door, "I picked up a couple of strays along the way… hope you don't mind C-squared."

D.J. dropped the wheelchair he was playing in back solidly to the ground and raised his eyebrows as Jason Kidd, Jake Garner, and… well, the third person that walked in had the scruffy youth blushing. Dawne Amos. Talk about blonde bombshells. She was even wearing her cheerleading uniform. D.J. rubbed his hands over his hair that was still way too short for his liking. Of course Dawne was looking a Chris though. And flowers? As if there weren't enough of them scattered around Chris's room already.

"Hi Chris," Dawne said, batting her eyelashes at him as she set the flowers on the windowsill.

"Hey guys," Chris said.

Chris shifted and found Alwynne reaching over to fluff up his pillow with a conspiratorial wink. He winkled his nose at her when he saw her eyebrows rising up and down at the girl that had come to pay him a visit.

"Where's Wyatt at?" Jake asked, pulling a chair up to sit in it backwards. He saw the raised eyebrows from Dawne and instead turned the chair around for her to sit in it.

D.J. shrugged, "I haven't seen him since he dropped me off at the front entrance so he could find a parking space." The dark-haired boy checked his watch, "That was at least an thirty minutes ago."

"He probably just got sidetracked talking with Andrea Payton again," Chris said with a smile, avoiding the looks directed at him by Dawne with furious blushes. What she was even _doing_ here he didn't know. She was a senior and the head cheerleader and not exactly the sort that would give him the time of day. Quarterback or not.

"She talks?" Dawne asked, somewhat surprised.

"Complete sentences even," D.J. said, then he winced with the 'insert foot in mouth' moment he had just managed to create for himself. Chris grinned at that, but he did feel a little awkward in the presence of the head cheerleader and two of Wyatt's friends. If D.J. and Alwynne hadn't been there, it probably would have been even more uncomfortable.

"I'm sorry, I don't think we've met," Jake said, extending a hand towards Alwynne, and staving off Dawne's glare towards D.J. over what he had meant by that.

"I'm sorry," Chris said, "Jake, Jason… uh… Dawne… this is Alwynne."

"'Tis nice to meet you," Alwynne said.

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Piper Halliwell glanced at her watch; Leo was still at magic school. Wyatt's public school had let out an hour ago, so she guessed that he was at the hospital by now visiting with Chris. The doctor had said that Chris ought to be cleared to leave on Friday and he would finally be at home. Piper had seen the disappointment in his eyes at first, but his forgiveness had come quicker. Her youngest had always been her more independent child, she had known he would be even before he was born, but she had been worried that he would have been influenced by the anger that Wyatt was still clearly feeling for her and Leo. By now she should have known to trust that it would be the other way around and that as usual Chris would help balance his brother out as only he could.

Piper made her way into the attic. Paige had helped clean and restore it to order in the two weeks since Chris had woken from his coma - and the Daughter of Nightmares had been defeated. Wyatt still wasn't talking to Leo, but he had at least started talking to her again. Piper had a suspicion that his forgiveness of her had more to do with Chris's intervention than Wyatt's own decision.

It wasn't entirely true that he wasn't talking to Leo. Wyatt yelled and argued with Leo plenty. It was becoming a nightly occurrence even. Their constant bickering had even gotten to the point two nights ago where Wyatt had rather eventfully blown up the chandelier in the middle of dinner, because Leo had confronted Wyatt about missing his curfew _again_. He seemed to be doing that more now too. He had waited this long being a next to perfect son to start being a rebellious now. True she wished he would try a little harder with his schoolwork sometimes, but he had never exactly been what she would call a 'rebel' before. Phoebe had tried to give some psycho-babble reason for it and Piper had kindly reminded her that she would 'get hers' an about another year when Melinda started High School.

Piper drew a breath and sighed sadly. She hated that she had let Wyatt down and that in doing so she had let both of her children down. It made her feel like a bit of a failure. She only hoped she could regain some of the ground that had been lost before Wyatt graduated from high school and moved off to college.

Piper fingered the fountain pen that she had in her hand. The Book of Shadows was closed on its stand when Piper first walked into the room. It opened on its own as she crossed towards it and the pages started flipping magically of their own accord. Piper rounded the podium that it sat on and looked to see the very page that she had come up here to look for. _Lillith - Daughter of Nightmares_. She was going to write Chris's name down for the vanquish. Her baby's first real vanquish on his own.

Uncapping the pen, Piper got ready to put it to the page when she recognized the handwriting on the page opposite. A page that spoke of the World of Dreams. It was Prue's handwriting. The chocolate-eyed woman paused and touched a finger to the page, "Oh, Prue… thank you for helping my boys…" tears sprung up to her eyes and she found herself smiling a watery smile, "…you were there for them when I wasn't listening. I… thank you…"

A gold glimmer of script swept across the bottom of the entry, darkening into freshly inked words, _You're welcome._

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Wyatt walked in with a small smile on his face and his hands tucked into the pockets of his jeans. In the couple of weeks his brother was at the hospital he had gotten to know Andrea Payton pretty well from constantly bumping into her on the way into the hospital. She always seemed to be walking in the door right when he was, having come to the hospital to visit her father after school just as Wyatt was always coming over to visit Chris. They had become rather quick friends once the ice had been broken.

The muscular blonde raised his eyebrows when he saw the small group gathered around his little brother's bed. He started to back up, looked at the name on the door, "Huh, I wasn't sure I had the right room for a minute there… all these visitors."

"Yeah, well, we wanted to see for ourselves how Chris was doing," Jason said, "All this second hand stuff wasn't cutting it. It's good to see it was nothing permanent."

"We're just sorry to hear he's not going to be able to finish out the football season with us," Jake said, leaning on the back of Dawne's chair, "but we're glad he's going to get better."

"Probably won't see State Championships this year," Jason said with a shrug, "Maybe you can lead next year's team to victory. I'd come back to see that."

Chris smiled, scratching his good hand through his hair, "Don't give up yet. You guy still have a shot. You've won the last two games without me, haven't you?"

"Did someone tell you that? They were supposed to tell you we lost, so you'd feel important," Jake said with a wry grin and a little laugh, "We won, yeah, but it's not really the same without you around. That and Jason can't make the passes half the time."

Jason smacked Jake in the back of the head, causing the other boy to laugh, "Thanks a lot man."

"He'd probably be more upset, but he knows it's true," Dawne said, batting her eyelashes at Chris again. D.J. rolled his eyes and mimed gagging towards Wyatt.

Chris flushed a deeper shade of red and cut his eyes at Alwynne when she covered her mouth to hide her smile. "I may not be able to help you guys this year, but I do plan on playing again next year."

"Does Mom know this?" Wyatt asked.

"I told her this morning. I'll warm her up to it. She didn't take the news well," Chris said, _In fact she said I would play sports again 'over her dead body' and a demon showed up. She blew him up and then grumbled at the Elders that it had been a figure of speech._

Wyatt smirked, _Sounds like Mom…_

"Hey Wy," Chris said, "I'm guessing my food is cold again, huh?"

Wyatt held up the bag with the burger and fries in it that he'd gotten for his brother, "Sorry?"

"Don't worry about it. Even cold, it _still_ beats hospital food," Chris said, smiling at Alwynne as his brother handed him the bag of fast food. "So… how's _Aaaaandrea?_"

_Don't you dare start that again_, Wyatt thought at Chris. "She's doing good. They're releasing her Dad today."

"That's good news," Chris said with an innocent smile, digging into the bag. He offered some of the cold fries to Alwynne, still unable to stop blushing at the fact that the head cheerleader was staring at him with her big blue eyes. "Maybe I can actually get a hot meal tomorrow."

D.J. snorted, popping another wheelie in the chair and spinning around in a circle. Alwynne took a couple of fries, looking completely comfortable and amused to be among this new gathering of friends.

"Maybe I won't have to wait an hour for my ride home tomorrow," D.J. said, green eyes twinkling behind his glasses. "Hey Winnie…"

"That's a bloody horrible nickname, makes me think of a chubby yellow bear with a penchant for honey," Alwynne said, making a face.

"Would you rather I called you 'Al'?" D.J. asked, "Race you down the hallway until the nurses catch us again?"

Alwynne stole one last fry from Chris and started wheel away from his bed and to the door. "Aye, last one to the elevator is a Plonker."

"What's a Plonker!?" D.J. asked, wheeling after her, out the door "HEY! No fair getting a head start!"

Wyatt moved to the side to avoid getting his foot rolled over by D.J. and shook his head as the other boy went tearing off down the hallway after Alwynne. She had certainly fit right in like an old friend. He hoped once the social workers finally found her a foster parent that she wouldn't have to move too far away. He had gotten used to her being around these last two weeks and she'd already become good friends with Chris.

Jake glanced at his watch, "As much as I'd like to stay and be the next participant in wheel chair races to get yelled at by some of those nurses… I'd better get home."

"Considering he's my ride, I should probably go too," Jason said, walking over to Chris's bed. He held his fist out to Chris, who held his up so that the older boy could tap his against it, "You get better. I'll try not to show you up too bad."

Jake waved the fist away, "None of that," he bent down and gave Chris a hug, "I've got a new little brother. My family gives hugs… and I know for a fact that your family does, so you're not getting off without one from me. No hard feelings about that stuff your freshmen year, right?"

"What stuff freshmen year?" Chris asked, smiling and patting Jake's back with his good hand. Jake straightened up.

Jake smiled and started out the room after Jason. "Hey, Dawne, coming?"

The cheerleader walked over to Chris and gave him a kiss on the cheek. She winked at him before she followed the two football players out. Chris's face turned fire engine red with a blush that managed to almost make the perfect lipstick mark on his cheek blend in. Wyatt laughed and sat on the edge of the bed, shaking his head. "Way to go little brother…"

"Did she _really_ just do that?" Chris asked, wide-eyed.

Wyatt grabbed a napkin from the bag of food he'd brought and wiped Chris's cheek off to show him, "Yeah, bro. Yeah, she did."

Chris continued blushing furiously, but he laughed, "I could get used to this…"

"If you were anyone else, I think I would worry that you might try to milk this wounded hero thing for all it's worth," Wyatt said, reaching over to muss his brother's hair, "You? I don't think I have to worry about… if anyone is a modest hero, it's you."

"I'm no hero, Wy." Chris said with a chuckle.

"No?" Wyatt said, reaching across his brother to grab the remote, "I think I've got a pretty noble little brother. Hey… look… King Arthur is on."

Chris rolled his eyes and groaned, leaning back on his pillow, "You have _got_ to be kidding me… I'm going to call the nurse and have her disconnect that thing."

"What?" Wyatt asked grinning, "It's educational."

"You're hopeless…" Chris said.

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**Author's Note:** And that's a wrap! Tell me what you think! Read the whole story from beginning to end… I've made a few edits here and there through it. But, in general… I just want reviews. Let me know, show me love! And be sure to look for the next in the Pre-Destined series that I am working on with Jennifer (_strikermac_) called: When Mom's Away The Demons Will Play.


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